House of Cards
by Aebbe
Summary: James Potter and Scorpius Malfoy are enemies, everyone knows that. So when a Malfoy is put in Gryffindor, sparks soon fly. But with dark magic rising, the Malfoy family in trouble, and the Muggle and Magical worlds set to collide, old rivalries may have to be forgotten. Various pairings. Part of the Dark League story arc, but can be read as a stand alone.
1. Friends and Enemies

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, or her settings, and no money is being made from this story.**

**A/N: The character list for this story is misleading. It is in fact an ensemble fic, featuring most of the Harry Potter Next Gen, in main or supporting roles. The ones I've listed are the point of view characters, but others are almost equally as important. It also features heavily quite a number of Harry's generation (including Harry) and a good few OCs. **

**There is no one main pairing, but as much romance as you would expect in a large group of teenagers. Don't expect all the pairings you see here necessarily to be endgame though - this story is part of a much longer series I am writing, and relationships change and shift. Some of them may end up together... but not all. **

**You can easily read this story by itself, but certain things will only make sense, and certain storylines will only be resolved, in other stories. Of course, I highly encourage everyone to read all my stories... ;) But this one is the right one to read first, as it essentially sets up the others.**

**I love reviews! Anyone who leaves one earns my love, and virtual brownies/whatever other baking I feel like doing... Good or bad, I like to get constructive criticisms - what matters is that I know what people are thinking about it.**

* * *

**Prologue**

_He felt a sudden impulse to turn and run out of the hall, but he didn't. Instead, he sat down on the chair and placed the hat onto his head._

"_Hmm," he had known that the hat talked, but he jumped just the same, "Tricky one. Very tricky. Brains… yes, you've definitely got brains. Not sure if there's enough application for a Ravenclaw, but you could do well there. Of course, family tradition says I should put you in Slytherin, but then we like to break with traditions sometimes. What do you think yourself, my boy?"_

"_I… I don't know," the small boy thought, thrown by the question._

"_Hmm… Your father never had any indecision. Knew exactly what he wanted. Perhaps Slytherin's the wrong place after all. How about Gryffindor? You'd do well in Gryffindor, very well..."_

"_My father would kill me." The thought was very small, but it slipped out._

"_Oh? Well, I'm going to have to put you somewhere, and if you can't decide, it'd better be SLYTHERIN."_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Friends and Enemies**

**_In which an unlikely friendship is introduced, Draco Malfoy is disconcerted, Ron Weasley is outraged, Harry Potter is concerned, and a new year at Hogwarts begins..._**

"It's a bit incestuous, isn't it?"

The girl flicked her brown hair out of her eyes as she spoke and bounced the tennis ball against the wall.

Her companion frowned.

"What d'you mean?" He sounded a little offended.

"Well," she giggled, "It's a bit weird, isn't it? I mean, you all grow up together, and then you end up going out and getting married, to people you've known since you were eleven, because there isn't anybody else, unless you want to marry Muggles. Does that ever happen?"

"Sometimes," he said, cautiously, "But a lot of people still don't really approve of it."

She laughed again.

"How does that even work? I mean, it's all supposed to be this big secret, isn't it? I know you can get into trouble by telling Muggles, because we've got to keep it such a secret from your parents that _I_ know. But if two people are going to marry each other, surely they'd have to know. When would you be allowed to tell them? Is there some sort of special permission you get if you're going to marry a Muggle? And then, are you only allowed to tell them if you're actually engaged? What about people who never get married, just live together all their lives?

"And it would be a bit of milestone in the relationship, wouldn't it? I'm not sure _I_'d like it very much, if my long term boyfriend suddenly turned round to me and said 'Oh, darling, before we move in together, there's something you should know. You know I always told you I was a lawyer? Well, actually, I'm a Wizard...' I mean, if I was any ordinary Muggle, I'd laugh in his face and then, if he managed to convince me, I'd want to know why he'd been lying to me for however long. And then what would happen if you split up after all that?"

"I don't know," her friend looked uncomfortable, "I suppose you must be allowed to tell them. Same as we have to tell Muggle-borns' parents. It doesn't happen that often, witches and wizards marrying actual Muggles. I don't know what would happen if you split up, but the Ministry must have a rule for it these days. But it's not as bad as you're making it seem. There are other schools, not just Hogwarts. Beauxbatons, Durmstrang…"

"Yeah, okay. But still, most people must end up marrying people they've known since they were eleven, don't they? That just seems a bit weird to me. Like I said, a bit incestuous. Not literally, obviously. I mean, I'm sure there are Muggles who marry people they've known all their lives as well. But it's not that common," she grinned at him, "Are you sure the whole magic thing isn't just, you know, a delusion? The result of inbred madness...?" She carried on bouncing the ball off the wall.

He laughed reluctantly.

"Still," she sounded wistful as she went on, "I wish I was a witch."

They had hoped, when they were little, that she might be.

"Some witches and wizards have Muggle parents," he had said, eagerly, "You might be one." And with the optimism of ten, they had waited hopefully in the build up to her eleventh birthday.

But no letter had come.

It would have been strange if it had, she saw now. An almost unbelievable coincidence. The only Muggle to be best friends with a pureblood wizard, and she turned out to a witch? That was unlikely in the extreme.

So Scorpius Malfoy had gone off on the train to the fantastically named 'Hogwarts,' and Hazel Kitson had sadly abandoned her dream, and gone to the square concrete towers of Mirlton High School.

Now, Scorpius shrugged.

"It isn't all that great…"

She raised her eyebrows sceptically and he grinned at her.

"Well, all right, it's pretty awesome, but I was trying not to make you feel bad. Anyway, I thought you were going to go to university."

She pushed her hair back off her face.

"Well, hopefully. Don't get me wrong, I don't spend my whole time wishing I could have a wand too. I mean, there are plenty of things I want to do with my life, which being a witch would kind of ruin.

"It's just… well, it's weird that you have this whole other life that I can never be part of. It's not so much the actual casting spells as just the ordinary things. At least the things that are ordinary to _you_. All these places you talk about – Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry of Magic. I can never go there. I can never see them. I can't meet all these people from your school, I can't watch a Quidditch match, I can't see a dragon…"

"You wouldn't want to. Dragons are pretty dangerous."

"That's not the point!" she sighed frustratedly, "I just wish I could see them all, just once. Just to see with my own eyes that they're really real."

"Don't you believe me?" he was slightly affronted.

"Oh bloody hell, Scorpius, of course I believe you; I've seen you do magic, even though it was ages ago…"

"I told you, I'm not allowed any more…"

"I know. I'm not asking you to do it again. I'm just saying, I know you're telling the truth. I _believe _they're there, in my head. But I can't… _understand_ that they're there, not without seeing them. D'you see what I mean? They seem like something from a book or a film, not something real. I just wish I could see them. _Could_ I see them? I mean, if you took me and put me right in front of something like the Hogwarts Express, would I physically be able to see it? And if I I tried to get through that barrier thing at the station, would I be able to or would I just run into a wall?"

"I don't know," Scorpius sounded doubtful, "I think you could see them. I mean, Muggle borns get seen off on the train by their parents, so they can get to Platform 9¾ all right. But I think they have to get special permission. I mean, if any old Muggle tried to get through the barrier, they'd just crash into it. Otherwise, you might get Muggles falling through it or something.

"But we can't try it anyway. I'd get arrested if I tried to get you into the magical world. I mean, I've broken the law just by telling you. I'd probably end up in Azkaban. And my dad would absolutely kill me."

* * *

Sometimes, he remembered his first day at Hogwarts, and wondered what would have happened if he had let himself be sorted into Gryffindor. Would he have ended up being friends with the Potters and the Weasleys, instead of sworn enemies?

Probably not. Too much had happened between their parents. He didn't think that James Potter's hatred of him was entirely because he was a Slytherin. He was Draco Malfoy's son, Lucius Malfoy's grandson, and Bellatrix Lestrange's great-nephew. That was enough. Enough for most people really.

It wasn't easy, being the son of a reformed Death Eater. Harder than being the child of a non-reformed Death Eater even. Of course, people like the Potters and the Weasleys had no need to worry about anything. But even the kids with parents in Azkaban, or relatives who'd been killed fighting for Voldemort, had each other at least. They had people to rely on; something to believe in, even if it was just a shared hatred of the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter.

But the Malfoys belonged in neither camp. Everyone knew that they _had_ been Death Eaters; that Lucius had fought the Order in the Department of Mysteries, that Draco had tried to kill Albus Dumbledore, and that Malfoy Manor had been used as Voldemort's headquarters after his return to power. The Malfoys were not a trusted family in general wizarding society.

And among Voldemort's supporters, their name was mud too. Because everyone also knew that the Malfoys had abandoned the Dark Lord at the end; that Draco had been given his mission because his father was out of favour, and that Narcissa Malfoy had betrayed the Dark Lord at the crucial moment.

The Malfoys were Death Eaters no longer, which didn't make being in Slytherin a bed of roses for Scorpius.

Not that it would have been easier in Gryffindor, although he sometimes wished he had been placed there, just to have seen the look on James Potter's face. The others weren't so bad; Rose Weasley was bloody annoying, but you could actually have a civilised conversation with Albus Potter if you caught him on his own. James, of course, wouldn't know a civilised conversation if it hit him in the face, which Scorpius had been sorely tempted to do on occasion.

Still, he didn't really have a problem with any of them, except maybe James, but they sure as hell had a problem with him.

The Sorting Hat had never had to think about any of them, Scorpius thought sourly. Of course, he hadn't seen James sorted, but Albus and Rose and Lily and Hugo and the rest had barely had the Hat on their heads for a second, and he didn't imagine that James and his cousin Louis would have been any different. Good little Gryffindor boys and girls, through and through. They knew where they belonged.

"Scorpius!" his father's irritated voice broke through his thoughts, "Come on!"

Scorpius shook his head, coming back to the current situation, and followed his father down the platform.

Casually, he glanced around, saw nobody watching, and stepping sideways through the barrier. A few moments later, his father and small sister followed him.

"Malfoy,"a man greeted Draco coldly. Scorpius knew him; his name was Theo Nott. Nott and Scorpius' father had been friends of a sort once, but Nott had made no secret of his continuing support for Voldemort; his son, who was in Scorpius' year, was tellingly named Marvolo.

Unfortunately, Nott was clever, and although he stepped very close to the line of the law, he was very careful not to put a toe over it. The Aurors had investigated him, but it was no crime to name your son Marvolo, even if it had been Tom Riddle's middle name. Nott's father had been a Death Eater, but he himself had not, and he claimed that his son was named after other members of the Gaunt family, for whom it had been a common family name. The Notts had ancestral ties with the Gaunts, so it wasn't an unreasonable claim.

"Nott," Draco Malfoy's voice was equally cold.

Draco disliked these yearly trips. There were too many people he did not want to see; too many memories. He glanced around. Were they here yet…? Yes, there they were. The Potters and the Weasleys. All together, of course, the whole ridiculous brood of them, swarming all over the place. Sweet Merlin, it seemed as though every other child on the Hogwarts Express had the Weasleys' red hair these days. Did they breed like rabbits?

He turned to his small daughter, who was standing nervously by his side.

"Well, Iseult, are you ready?" he asked her, "Mind you do well, and don't take any nonsense from anybody. Confidence, that's all you need to get along in life."

She stared at him from those dark blue eyes that were so like her mother's, but said nothing. He felt that he was not making as good a job of this as Astoria would have done.

"Now, Scorpius will look after you, so there's no need to worry," he sent a stern glance at his son, in case he showed any signs of protesting against this responsibility, but he did not. Instead, Scorpius took Iseult's hand and squeezed it, smiling at her.

"You'll be fine. Look, there are loads of other first years, just as nervous as you."

She looked up at him.

"Can I sit with you?"

He smiled reassuringly at her.

"Course you can."

Not for the first time, Draco found himself frustratingly baffled by his son. When he was that age, he would have been horrified at the very idea of looking after a younger sister. What normal sixteen-year-old boy would cheerfully agree to his eleven-year-old sister joining him and his friends? He wondered whether he would ever learn to predict Scorpius.

But Iseult had cheered up, and hugged her father goodbye with a smile, and insisted that he say goodbye properly to Tosca, who was curled up in her basket. Draco submitted to this demand with rather a bad grace, since he was sure that Ron Weasley was looking their way, but Issie was satisfied and trotted off happily after Scorpius to find his friends and a carriage.

* * *

"There are the Malfoys," Ron Weasley murmured to his wife. Hermione looked around.

"Oh, yes. That must be their little girl. What's her name again?"

He shrugged.

"Don't think I ever heard it."

"I wonder where Astoria is."

"Hmm. Malfoy doesn't look entirely in his element, does he?"

But Hermione had turned away to address a remark to her sister-in-law, and was no longer listening.

Ron chuckled and nudged Harry Potter.

"See that?"

"No, what?" Harry turned, distracted from the conversation he was having with his own daughter.

"Malfoy's daughter making her dad kiss the cat goodbye."

Harry grinned.

"Can't imagine Malfoy being the most loving father, can you?"

"Poor kids don't have a chance," Ron agreed.

"I don't know," Lily said, absently, "Scorpius is okay."

Her father and uncle stared at her.

"What d'you mean, _Scorpius is okay_?" Her Uncle Ron sounded outraged.

She stared at him.

"Well, he is, for a Slytherin."

"He's a _Malfoy_!" Ron was beginning furiously when his wife interrupted.

"For goodness' sake, Ron! She didn't say she was going to marry him. There's no need to overreact. I'm glad he's not as bad as his father," she told Lily.

"Who's not as bad as his father?" Lily's oldest brother breezed up, "Hugo?" He grinned cheekily at his uncle.

"Ha!" Ron scowled at him, "No, your sister was just telling us about what a wonderful person young Scorpius Malfoy is."

"_Malfoy_?" James stared at his sister, who had turned pink under the attention, and looked cross.

"I didn't say that. I've hardly spoken two words to him, and he's a Slytherin, and like Uncle Ron said, he's a Malfoy. I know all about why we don't like the Malfoys. All I said was that Scorpius isn't as bad as the other Slytherins, and he's _not_. He's never nasty, and he's always polite."

"The perfect gentleman," her brother agreed sarcastically, "Unlike the rest of us rough louts. Come on, Lily. You can't honestly _like_ the smarmy little shit?"

"Language, James!" his mother had turned from her conversation with Hermione in time to hear the last few words, "There are children around!"

"I don't _like_ him!" Lily continued, exasperated, "I told you, I've hardly even spoken to him. I never said I liked him. But I tell you something, when you two throw hexes at each other, it's never _him_ who picks the fight…"

Perhaps fortunately, the train blew its whistle at that point, and there was a mad scramble to say goodbye and get onto the train, and then they were off, and their parents were left behind, smiling and waving. But as the train pulled out, Ginny frowned.

"I hope James doesn't really go around picking fights with the Malfoy boy."

"I hope he does," Ron said heartily, "And I hope he beats him every time."

But Ginny shook her head.

"It's a bit too much like bullying for my liking. That's the sort of behaviour you'd expect… well, from a Malfoy, not from James. Jamie's seventeen; too old for silly fights. And a year older than Scorpius, too. I don't like that kind of behaviour."

Harry, standing beside her, was silent. It was reminding him a little too strongly of certain things he knew about James' namesake, Harry's own father. Harry hadn't been impressed when he'd learnt about the way his father had picked on Severus Snape, and he wasn't impressed now.

"Don't worry about it too much, Ginny," Hermione was saying soothingly, "It's just a couple of teenage boys getting into the odd scrap. James would never do anything really bad, he knows better than that. He's just... high spirited. Remember how things used to be between us and Malfoy? We _all_ used to have a go at each other every opportunity we got! And the only reason it had changed at all by the time _we_ were seventeen was because everything was changing. Malfoy spent most of our sixth year shut up in the Room of Requirement, trying to find a way to kill Dumbledore, and none of us ever saw him to pick fights with him..."

"I suppose you're right," Ginny agreed, slightly doubtfully, and let the matter drop.

But the exchange left Harry wondering whether he shouldn't do something to curb his oldest son's 'high spirits.'

* * *

"Scorpius!"

He turned at the sound of his name, and found a tall, dark-skinned girl coming towards him up the swaying train corridor, grinning at him.

"Hello!, she continued as she reached them, "Hey, Issie! Looking forwards to starting Hogwarts?"

Iseult nodded shyly.

"How were your holidays?" Scorpius asked, as they entered an empty carriage. The girl pulled a face.

"Oh, all right. Dad kicking off as usual, and Rowan making a nuisance of herself. No change. How about you?"

He grinned.

"Pretty good, really. Had to spend the odd weekend with the grandparents, which is never a barrel of laughs. But most of it was all right. Have you seen Danny?"

"Yes," she glanced over her shoulder, "He was with me, but he got waylaid by Mr Perfect Prefect, Albus Potter, for telling a bunch of first years about the tasks you have to complete before they let you in the gates..."

"That _is_ a bit mean, Calypso" Scorpius commented.

She rolled her eyes.

"I suppose you have to say things like that, being a prefect yourself. Aren't you supposed to be patrolling the corridors with Potter or something?"

"Probably. I will later. Though not with Potter if I can help it."

"The annoying thing is," she went on, "that _James_ Potter's probably sitting somewhere right now telling much worse stories than anything Danny could come up with, and_he's_ not going to get into trouble for it."

Scorpius grinned faintly.

"No, I can't see him reacting too well to his little brother telling him off."

He didn't particularly want to talk about James Potter, though, and was glad when Iseult interrupted.

"There aren't _really_ any tests you have to do before they let you in, are there?"

He grinned at her.

"No, not really. Apart from battling the giant squid, obviously…"

She smacked him on the arm, and he broke off laughing.

"Nice cat," Calypso commented, putting her fingers in through the bars of the carrying cage. Iseult beamed.

"Her name's Tosca. She just a kitten really."

The small black head rubbed itself against Calypso's fingers, and a purr began.

"She's pretty well-behaved in the cage."

Iseult nodded proudly.

"I let her sleep in it all holidays, and gave her food in it, so she was used to being in it. She quite likes it now, only she gets bored after a bit. I can't let her out on the train, though, or we'd never catch her again."

The door opened and a head of sandy-coloured hair came round and grinned at them.

"Good, I've found you."

The boy attached to the head came into the carriage and threw himself down beside Calypso.

"Hey, Dan," Scorpius greeted his friend, "Did Potter give you a detention?"

Dannicus Urquhart laughed.

"No, but I was bloody tempted to give him a blistered face. Self-righteous bastard. I thought Albus was okay, but he's taking this prefect thing way too seriously. I'm glad you're not like that, Scorp. I'd disown you if you were. _'You're a sixth year, you should be setting an example, not frightening a bunch of children…_'" Dannicus did a passable imitation of Albus Potter, and his friends laughed.

"Albus is all right," said Scorpius, good-humouredly, "Just takes life a bit seriously, that's all. He's right anyway, Danny, it's mean to tease the kids."

Danny scowled at him.

"You want to watch it, or it'll be you with the blistered face."

"And you with the detention," retorted Scorpius, but both were laughing.

Iseult looked at her brother with awe.

"Can you really give people detentions, Scorp?"

"Oh yes," Calypso told her seriously, "So you'd better watch your step, young Issie; with him _and_ Potter patrolling the school, the law will be well and truly laid down."

Scorpius leaned back and listened to the friendly banter, thinking how lucky he was to have Danny and Calypso. It would be hell without them.

Slytherin was hell enough anyway. After the Battle for Hogwarts, more than twenty years ago, when not a single Slytherin pupil stayed to fight Voldemort, the House had such a reputation that nobody who was not associated with the Death Eaters wanted to be in it; and because the Sorting Hat allowed students some degree of choice in their sorting, that meant that now, even more than in the past, Slytherin was packed full of the children of Death Eaters and dark wizards, many of whom, like their parents, still kept faith with the vanquished Dark Lord.

People like Danny, who rebelled against the opinions of his parents, and Scorpius and Calypso, whose parents had genuinely renounced Voldemort (Calypso's family had never technically committed to him in the first place; nobody quite knew where their loyalties had been during the war), were few and far between. It was just luck that three of them had ended up in the same year.

He wondered anxiously what Issie's year would be like. He hoped that there would be people for her to make friends with. He didn't want her to be miserable or, even worse perhaps, influenced by her friends to take an interest in the Dark Arts.

His father had his faults, Scorpius was the first to acknowledge that, but Draco Malfoy had really become sickened with the Dark Lord and his ways during the War, and he had brought his children up the same way. He had always said that he would kill Scorpius if he went near the Dark Arts. But at the same time, he would have been very unhappy if his son had ended up in any other house than Slytherin.

Scorpius had grown up to expect contradictions like that from his father. That was what came of being neither one thing nor the other, and it didn't make it any easier for the Malfoy children. You couldn't really win.


	2. Cuckoo in the Nest

**Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter, or any of the characters created by JK Rowling.**

**A/N: Well, here it is folks, Chapter 2. I had very little response from those who have this story on alerts to the news that I'm reposting, so I still have no idea really whether any of you are still interested. The silence would suggest not... oh well, hopefully I'll find some new readers :-)**

**This hasn't really changed that much from the original, but I've combined what was two chapters into one, and tweaked it a bit.**

**Please leave reviews. Even if it's just a line – it makes me very happy! I'm getting back to this one after a long break, so I need some reassurance on whether it's worth it... Reviews are the only way I have to know if people are liking or hating the story, so if you even enjoyed it slightly, please reward me with a review!**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Cuckoo in the Nest**

_**In which Iseult Malfoy is sorted, James Potter is annoyed, Scorpius Malfoy is worried, Jake Nelson makes enemies and Louis Weasley tempts fate...**_

It was raining when the Hogwarts Express arrived at its destination. The first years were taken one way, the rest of the students the other. Iseult gave her brother a nervous glance, but he smiled reassuringly at her, and said he would see her in the Great Hall, so she followed the bad-tempered looking woman towards the boats.

But there were no tasks and no battling of giant squid, only a rather wet boat trip, and Iseult quite liked boats. The girl on one side of her looked a little queasy, but the boy on the other grinned cheerfully.

"This is fun, isn't it?"

Iseult grinned back, a little shyly, and nodded, although she thought that some of the others might not agree.

"What's your name?" he had to shout over the rain and wind.

"Iseult Malfoy," she called back, wondering whether there would be a recoil, as there sometimes was when people from the Wizarding World heard her name. But he showed no signs of recognising it.

"I'm Jake Nelson," he shouted, "Are your parents wizards?"

She nodded.

"Mine aren't," he looked around with shining eyes, "This is _crazy_! Do you know what'll happen when we get there?"

She hesitated, then called, "We have to get sorted into Houses."

"What?" he yelled.

"Houses!" she bellowed back, "We get SORTED!"

It was funny, but shyness disappeared quickly when you had to shout at each other to be heard. So he was Muggle-born; that explained why he didn't recognise her name. She had never really known any Muggle-borns, but he seemed nice enough. Her father never said anything, but always looked a little disapproving when Muggle-borns were mentioned. But Scorpius said that it was all nonsense, about purebloods being better in some way, and that some of the greatest witches and wizards in the world were Muggle-born.

Although he had never said that in front of their father.

* * *

It was a bedraggled little group that trooped into the Great Hall, behind the sweeping figure of Professor Clearwater who had met them at the front door, and eyed with wonder the enchanted ceiling; today it was filled with rolling storm clouds and the odd flicker of lightening, as the weather outside worsened.

Professor Morrison, the Headmaster, stood up as Professor Clearwater sailed on up to the high table, leaving the first years standing nervously in a huddle by the door. He smiled vacantly at the window above their heads.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. You will have been told what to do, I expect. Professor Clearwater will read your names out, in alphabetical order."

Professor Clearwater had picked up a long scroll. She cleared her throat, and called out the first name: "Ashley, Conrad."

A small boy with brown hair and freckles stumbled forwards, looking terrified. He sat down on the chair, and placed the hat gingerly on his head. There was a pause, then the Hat called out "Ravenclaw!" The Ravenclaw table cheered, and Conrad, visibly relieved, made his way over, to be greeted with many slaps on the back by his new housemates.

Professor Clearwater continued on through the letters of the alphabet; through Avery, Lilith (Slytherin); through Cadwallader, Griselda (Hufflepuff), and Fawcett, Bryony (Ravenclaw). On the list went, up to Longbottom, Alice, a round-faced girl with blonde pigtails who was pronounced a Gryffindor. Next was Malfoy, Iseult.

Issie walked up to the chair, sat down in it firmly, squeezed her eyes tight shut, and crammed the hat onto her head. It took only a few moments to make its decision.

* * *

Scorpius had sometimes wished that he had been sorted into Gryffindor, just so he could have seen James Potter's face when a Malfoy was sorted into his house.

That evening, he saw it anyway and it was everything he could have hoped for, but he hardly noticed it.

You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall as Iseult Malfoy carefully removed the Hat from her head, stood up and walked over to the table she had been assigned to. Even Professor Clearwater seemed nonplussed and made no effort to go on with her list, but simply stared with everybody else.

Flushing miserably, Iseult looked at the table, where nobody had made a single move to make a space for her, or shake her by the hand.

Then, from the High Table, a single pair of hands began to clap.

It broke the spell. A scatter of applause broke out, a space was made for Iseult, and Professor Clearwater blinked and continued with her list.

* * *

Jake Nelson dug into the loaded dishes in front of him with relish, then glanced curiously at the black-haired girl with the strange dark blue eyes, who was sitting beside him. She had placed a single roasted potato on her plate and was pushing it around with her fork.

Why had everybody stopped and stared like that when she was sorted? When his own turn had come, the Gryffindors had clapped spontaneously, and everybody had beamed at him. The older students had seemed interested in him. A pretty girl, with neat brown hair and a gleaming badge pronouncing her Head Girl, had introduced herself as Fenella Belby and welcomed him briskly to his new house, telling him that if he was ever unsure about anything, she and the prefects were there to help. A tall, red-haired girl with a stud through her eyebrow had asked him if he was Muggle born, and he had confirmed this. He had been a little worried that people would look down on him for this, but nobody seemed to mind. The girl who had asked – who must have been at least fifteen or sixteen – had commented that it must all seem pretty strange for him, but that had been it. Everybody had been friendly and welcoming.

He wondered what on earth it was about this little girl that had made them react like that. She had seemed quite nice as they had crossed on the boats. He nudged her.

"When you said we got sorted, I didn't know it would be like that."

She glanced up, startled, but before she could speak, the girl on the other side of him broke in.

"I didn't even know we were going to be sorted. I'm Muggle-born too," she looked curiously across him at Iseult, "Why did everybody go quiet like that when it was your turn?"

Iseult looked miserable.

"Well…"

How did she explain to two Muggle-borns what the name of Malfoy meant, when she barely understood it herself?

The girl with blond pigtails, sitting on her other side, leaned in to their conversation.

"Only because all the rest of her family have always been in Slytherin," she smiled sunnily at Iseult, "My name's Alice Longbottom. My dad teaches Herbology here."

Iseult realised who she meant; the man at the High Table, who had been the only person to start clapping for her. Iseult had known that he was familiar; now she remembered why. His photograph was on the back cover of one of her new books, _Basic Properties of Magical Plants: a New Study_.

She knew the name of Longbottom, too. Everybody knew the name of Longbottom; it was as inextricably bound up with the story of the War as the names of Malfoy or Weasley, coming after only that of Potter. Her father had mentioned the name too, and in none too complimentary terms, but Iseult could feel only immense gratitude to the Herbology professor.

She smiled tentatively back at Alice.

"I'm Sam Punton," the other Muggle-born introduced herself, "Well, it's Samantha really, but nobody calls me that. I still can't believe that all this is real."

"Me neither," Jake agreed, and they began to talk eagerly about their Muggle lives, and how they had found out about Hogwarts.

Alice squeezed Iseult's arm in a friendly way.

"Don't worry," she whispered, "Everyone was only surprised," she smiled, "I think it's lovely that you're a Gryffindor, and I bet everyone else will too, once they get used to it."

* * *

Several of the Gryffindor sixth and seventh years had gathered together in the Common Room. The good-looking brown-haired boy who gave off the air of a leader, was sitting on the back of an armchair, while a blonde, blue-eyed boy lounged on the seat of the same chair. On the sofa opposite them, a black-haired boy was reading a book and apparently ignoring them, while the Head Girl stood between the two chairs, and several others had gathered round.

"How? How could that happen? How can a Malfoy be in Gryffindor?" James Potter, perched on the back of the chair, waved his arms theatrically.

"Ssh. She's only in the dormitory. She'll hear you," the Head Girl, Fenella Belby, told him.

"James is right," Rose Weasley, she of the red hair and the eyebrow stud, frowned, "There must be some mistake."

"Don't be ridiculous," James' brother Albus looked up from his book, "The Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes."

"Of course it does," Rose retorted, "Severus Snape was in Slytherin, wasn't he? And why are you reading a book already? Please don't tell me you're doing work! It's the first night!"

"That wasn't the Sorting Hat making a mistake," replied Albus calmly, "That was somebody changing as they grew up. Anyway, you don't have to be evil to be put in Slytherin. And actually, I'm reading fiction. Some of us occasionally read for fun, you know."

"You're worrying about it too much, you two," a sixth year girl by the name of Sapphie Jordan said lazily to Rose and James, "She's only a first year. Why does it matter so much?" She flopped down next to Albus, and he laid down his book to put an arm round her. Rose pointedly ignored them. She had not quite got used to one of her best friends going out with her closest cousin.

"I agree," Albus said firmly.

"Of course you do," James muttered. Both his brother and Sapphie glared at him.

"Sapphie's right," a fair curly-haired seventh year girl who was sitting on the floor by Fenella's feet put in, "She's just another kid. I mean, I know you can't stand her brother, Jamie, although I never really got why..."

James stared at the girl incredulously.

"Annie... you have met Scorpius Malfoy, haven't you? He's a little bastard. He always has been. Slytherin through and through. He's always sneaking round, making sarky comments. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into the Dark Arts... we all know what his father was, after all."

Several of the gathered students, including Rose, nodded their heads in agreement with this.

"Yeah, you're right," the fifth girl with them, a pretty girl with curly brown hair and long curling lashes, said vehemently, "Malfoy's a bastard. Have you noticed that he never takes points off his own house, even though he's supposed to be a prefect?"

Fenella rolled her eyes. Emilia Brooke always agreed with James, but Fenella herself had no great love for Malfoy, and had to agree that on that point Emilia was right; come to think of it, Fenella wasn't sure she'd ever seen Malfoy take points off anyone, his own house or otherwise...

"I'm not going to disagree with you there," the blonde boy put in, "But what I don't get is why the fact that his _sister's_ in this house should bother anyone so much. Iseult Malfoy isn't Scorpius Malfoy..."

"Louis, their father was a Death Eater," Rose said impatiently, "The Malfoy family are Dark Wizards!"

"Except that Iseult Malfoy is in Gryffindor, so maybe she's not so dark," Fenella said, "Not everybody's like their families. Mine were all in Ravenclaw before me..."

"Ravenclaw and Slytherin aren't quite the same thing, though, are they?" James demanded.

"No," Fenella agreed, "But neither are Slytherin and Gryffindor. And Iseult Malfoy is in _Gryffindor_. Which only proves she's _not_ like the rest of her family."

"Anyway," Louis said, "Like Sapphie said, she's a first year. She's not very likely to bother _us_, is she?"

* * *

Scorpius had excused himself with a mumbled "Bit tired, think I might just turn in," and gone to the dormitory, ignoring the meaningful glances exchanged by his two friends. He hoped he could rely on them to keep the likes of Marvolo Nott from coming after him to jeer, or at least to give him warning if he was going to be interupted.

Gryffindor.

Iseult was in Gryffindor, and after the first shock had worn off, he found that he was not altogether surprised.

It made a sort of twisted sense. She was no more of a typical Slytherin than he was. Perhaps the Sorting Hat had given her, as it had himself, a choice. Perhaps she, unlike him, had chosen Gryffindor. The brave choice, in more ways than one, he thought bitterly. He couldn't imagine what his father's reaction was going to be, but it wouldn't be pretty. He was a little hurt himself. She couldn't have wanted to be in Slytherin, or she would almost certainly have been put there. And she had given Scorpius no hint that she felt that way.

Anyway, he didn't want Issie in a different house. He had actually been looking forward to showing her the ropes; to seeing her coming and going in the dungeons; to talking to her at meals.

He just hoped to goodness that they treated her all right in Gryffindor. What if they made her unwelcome? She was a Malfoy, just as he was, and that was enough to have earned him the animosity of all the Gryffindors. If they were mean to her… If they made her unhappy… he clenched his wand tightly.

He had always tried to keep his head down and out of trouble before, even when trouble (usually in the shape of James Potter) had come looking for him. But if any of them messed with Iseult, they would wish they'd never been born, Scorpius would see to that.

He fished a small black rectangle out of his pocket. This was one thing he had managed to keep a secret, even from Calypso and Danny. He was still quite proud of the spells (even though they were highly illegal) that had allowed it to work within Hogwarts. It was a strange reminder that there was another world outside the school, and not very far away either; a world that was as mysterious to most purebloods as the wizarding world was to Muggles.

It was a connection that he thought he might go mad without.

* * *

Iseult was indeed in the Gryffindor dormitory, but she had not overheard James Potter's words. She was curled up in bed, wide awake. The other first year Gryffindor girls who shared her dormitory slept peacefully; she could hear their even breathing.

There were only three of them, apart from her, and they had all been perfectly pleasant to her, although the third one, whom she had not spoken to at dinner, had seemed a little cautious. But her head was reeling. Nothing had prepared her for what had happened in the Great Hall. Scorpius had never told her that the Hat talked to you inside your head, or that it could hear your thoughts. Still less that it took them into account.

She had put the Hat on her head, thinking "_Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin_" fiercely to herself, without any real expectation that she would end up in any other house. To her astonishment, the Hat had chuckled.

"_Well, I never thought I'd get deja-vu. Somebody else said that to me, a long time ago."_

Surprised into silence, she had not replied.

_Nooo,"_ the Hat had said slowly, _"Perhaps you're right. You don't seem quite like a Slytherin to me. Oh, the Slytherin's there; whether you call it cunning or sneakiness, it's there all right. But you're not a Slytherin at heart. More like a… GRYFFINDOR!"_

And that had been it. She was a Gryffindor.

She had never expected that to happen, and she had never thought that it would make her feel so lost. She had thought she would spend her first evening at Hogwarts with Scorpius and the others. Of course, she had never really wanted to be in Slytherin; she had always dreamt of making it into another house, but she had always had a hopeless certainty that Slytherin was inevitable. No Malfoy had ever been in any other house.

But now here she was up on the Seventh Floor, with all the Potters and Weasleys who had always been her family's worst enemies, while Scorpius and Calypso and Danny were all together down in the dungeons.

They did not want her here. The other first years might have been polite, but the reaction to her Sorting had shown her that she was not welcome. It had been the most horrible moment of her life, when she had stood there in front of them, looking at a host of cold, blank faces, and a table with no space for her. She had not dared to look at Scorpius and see his disappointment. He would know that she had chosen this; had _asked_ not to be placed in Slytherin.

Iseult Malfoy buried her face in Tosca, who shifted and began to purr at the touch, and two hot salty tears trickled out of her eyes and into the sleek black fur. What on earth was she going to tell her father?

* * *

Hazel Kitson sat down at the computer and switched it on. It was bedtime really, and she was in her pyjamas, but Scorpius had promised her a message tonight, to make sure his BlackBerry was still working in Hogwarts. It was only last year that he'd managed to work out how to make it run there without using up the battery and needing to be recharged with electricity. She wasn't sure if he actually had access to wireless within Hogwarts, or if that was magic too, but it had worked all through the second half of last year.

She logged into gmail, hoping he hadn't forgotten. She missed him when he was at school, and she loved to get the updates from Hogwarts. As a kid, she had obsessed over it, and her fascination hadn't really disappeared as she'd got older, although her level of obsession was perhaps not as overwhelming.

No, he hadn't forgotten. She opened the email.

"Hey Haze," it said, "Well, I'm back at Hogwarts and it still seems to be working. Everything's the same as usual here, except a bit of a weird thing's happened.

You know I told you about the different houses and stuff, and how I'm in Slytherin, where all my family have been because it's the house associated with the Dark Arts etc etc… Well, Issie's gone and got herself sorted into Gryffindor, which is the house where all the Potters are. It was a bit of a shock, Issie ending up there. Not sure how I feel about it really. It never occurred to me we'd be in different houses. Houses, and loyalty to your house, are really important here. I just hope the Gryffindors are nice to her.

Mum and Dad don't know yet – obviously they're going to be pretty upset. I've escaped by myself for a bit. There are people here who are going to be pretty unpleasant about it; Gryffindors and Slytherins aren't exactly best friends. I didn't really want to talk to anyone about it, even Cal and Danny. I wish you were here, you're the only person I can talk to about anything.

Anyway, nothing much else to tell you. I'll email again when there's some more news. Is it tomorrow you go back to school? Hope sixth form goes well for you anyway. Say hi to the others from me.

Love, Scorp."

Hazel read it, then leaned back in her chair She hadn't grown up best friends with Scorpius Malfoy not to understand the importance of which house you were in at Hogwarts. She knew all about Scorpius' mixed feelings about his own house, and about the Potters. James Potter, in particular, sounded like a right cock. Scorpius always glossed over it, but Hazel was sure that James had bullied him in the past, and perhaps still did. It disturbed her a little, to think of Iseult sharing a house with people like that; although from everything Scorpius had told her, some of the people in Slytherin were even worse.

She hit the reply button.

"Hey Scorp. Good to hear from you so soon. Weird to think of you so far away in that castle when I'm here in Mirlton, going shopping with Louise and getting ready to go back to school.

Sorry to hear about Issie – are you ok? I would ask if she was, but doesn't sound like you've seen her? I'm sure she'll be fine – I mean even a complete bastard like James Potter isn't that likely to take things out on a little girl, is he? And they wouldn't get away with being mean to her would they?

I don't really get it though. You told me that the sorting hat asked you which house you wanted to be in – wouldn't it have done the same for Is? Why didn't she tell it she wanted to be in Slytherin? Unless – shit, sorry – maybe she didn't want to be in Slytherin? I mean, you've never exactly painted it in glowing colours. Just putting that thought out there. Maybe you should wait and talk to her before worrying about her. Easy to say that I know, obviously you're going to worry anyway. Wish I could be there, though there wouldn't be much I could do.

At least she's given everyone something to think about! When you think about it, it's quite typical of Issie, really, isn't it? She never does what you expect. Sounds quite funny actually, everyone staring like idiots! I'd have loved to see those Gryffindors' faces when your little sister got put with them! And you've always gone on about how you hate the whole house rivalry thing – well maybe now's your chance to build some bridges! At the very least it'll stir things up a bit. And you'll still get to see her, right?

No, it's not tomorrow – in most schools, starting lessons on a Friday would be a bit weird! We're going back on Monday. I'll let you know how it goes. Louise was asking after you, and said to say hi too.

Love and hugs,

Hazel xxx"

Iseult woke next morning with one thought; to see Scorpius as soon as possible. The rain had blown away in the night, and the day was warm and sunny. Tosca was sitting on the windowsill, swishing her tail at the crows that flew past outside.

"You can't go out there, puss," Alice stroked her head, "You'd only fall. I don't think even you'd manage to land on your feet after falling for seven floors," she smiled at Iseult, "I've got an owl, but he's in the owlery. My mum and dad got him for me when I got my Hogwarts letter. I'm not sure who they think I need to send letters to though. I'm going to see Dad pretty much every day."

"I haven't got anything," Sam said, longingly, "Mum said she had enough to get used to, with me being a witch, without filling the house with animals. I'd like a cat though. Or an owl. Are the owls tame?"

"Of course," Alice sounded surprised, "My Milton's as friendly as anything. You can share him if you like," she looked expectantly at Issie, who hastened to agree.

"And you can share Tosca too."

Sam beamed. "Really?"

"Course," Alice said, generously, "You can use Milton to send letters any time you like. Like I say, I won't need him often."

"Um," Sam sounded doubtful, "I'm not sure if Mum would really like getting letters by an owl."

Alice stared at her.

"Well, how else are you going to write to her?" she looked at the fourth girl, who had been silent, "Do you have an animal?"

The other girl, Antigone Felling, who had long dark brown hair and big brown eyes, nodded.

"Yes, I've got an owl as well. Her name's Star."

"That's pretty," said Alice, politely, "What kind is she?"

"A barn owl."

"Oh, my dad's got a barn owl," chattered Alice, "Milton's a Little Owl. That's Dad's idea of a joke. It's what he calls me, you see. Little Owl. Because I wear glasses for reading, and he says they make me look like a little owl."

"My brother's got a Long-Eared Owl," Iseult contributed. There was the breath of a pause.

"Is your brother at Hogwarts?" Sam asked, innocently.

Iseult nodded. "Yes, he's in sixth year. But he's in Slytherin."

Even in the short time she had been exposed to the wizarding world, Sam had picked up on the reputation of Slytherin. But, being Sam, that didn't put her off. She looked curiously at Iseult.

"Oh yes," she said, "Alice said all your family was in Slytherin. How come you're in Gryffindor, then?"

Iseult hesitated and, once more, Alice came to her rescue.

"Well, not everybody gets put in the same house as their family. My mum was in Hufflepuff, and _my_ big brother's in Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff aren't the same as Slytherin, though," Antigone put in. There was an awkward pause.

"My brother doesn't really _like_ being in Slytherin," Issie said, at last. Antigone looked as though she didn't quite believe her, but said no more.

To Issie's immense disappointment, Scorpius was not at breakfast. She searched the Slytherin table for him, craning her neck to see across the Hall, but he definitely wasn't there.

"What are you doing?" Jake Nelson had come to sit beside her.

"I was looking for my brother," Issie said. She spoke quietly, but not quietly enough. An older girl turned and smiled at her.

"You won't find him. All the prefects had to go to breakfast together."

"They always do that," the girl's friend, a red-haired girl of startling beauty, added, "I think they have to have a briefing or something like that. Al went as well. What have we got first, Meri?" she asked the first girl, and they turned to their timetables, much to the disgruntlement of the boy opposite, who had been trying to keep Lily Potter's attention.

Issie was rather quiet for the rest of breakfast, regardless of the attempts by both Jake and Alice to draw her out.

They were hurried off to their first lesson after the meal, and Issie found herself sitting next to Alice Longbottom. She felt a small pang of guilt for liking Alice so much. She knew that her father disliked Alice's father. It seemed almost like treachery. But Alice apparently had no such qualms and really, it would have been impossible not to like the friendly little girl.

Charms was fun; Professor Patil had decided to give them a practical session to start them off and Iseult was one of the very few people who managed to move her feather. Transfiguration, her other lesson that morning, was duller, as they did no actual magic at all.

The different years did not all eat lunch at the same time, and so she had no chance to see Scorpius then. After the meal, they trooped down to the greenhouses, for Herbology with Alice's father, who, Alice informed them proudly, was also the brand new Head of Gryffindor House.

She liked Professor Longbottom too, Iseult decided definitely, whatever her father thought of him. She could quite see that he wasn't her father's sort of person. He was much too easygoing and light-hearted; but that didn't mean that he wasn't a nice person. Anyway, he had been the only person to clap when she had been placed in Gryffindor, and whatever he thought of her family, he treated her no differently from any other student. He didn't really treat Alice any differently either, although she grinned cheekily at him and introduced Iseult to him when he came over to see how they were getting on half way through the lesson. He smiled at them.

"Well, I hope you're settling in all right, Miss Malfoy. Don't let this young woman talk you to death! We're very pleased to have you in Gryffindor, by the way." Whether he meant it or not, he managed to sound as though he did, and she was grateful.

It wasn't until after her last lesson that she had a chance to have another look for Scorpius. It was Potions, which happened to be in the dungeons, and which they also happened to have with the Slytherins. The Gryffindor students had had to come up from the greenhouses, and the Slytherins were already in the classroom when they arrived. As Iseult entered, every one of them, as if it had been pre-arranged, turned and stared fixedly at her. Feeling like a traitor, she blushed red and her stomach sank; all the cheerfulness she had felt in Herbology faded away. Alice squeezed her arm.

"Ignore them," she whispered, loudly.

"Ugly lot, aren't they?" Jake did not even bother to lower his voice, "Aren't you glad you're not with them, Iseult?"

Sam giggled and Iseult turned redder than ever, but she felt cheered. At least some people wanted her in Gryffindor.

All the same, it was not a pleasant lesson. Several of the Slytherins kept sending nasty looks her way, and at one point, a small, pointy-faced girl flipped a small piece of paper onto the desk in front of her. On it was written the words 'BLOOD TRATER.' Alice looked at it, and went pink with indignation.

"That's _disgusting_!" she hissed, "They'd be in so much trouble if we showed it to Professor Mundy. All that stuff about blood, that's what You-Know-Who came out with. I bet that was Ebony Montague. She's horrible, she really is."

Jake leaned over from his own seat and read it. His reaction was not as strong as Alice's; as a Muggle-born, he did not really know what it meant. Instead, he grinned, and said, perfectly audibly to anyone except Professor Mundy, who was slightly deaf and was sitting at his desk at the front of the classroom:

"Ugly _and_ thick! They can't spell Traitor." And he picked up the piece of paper, screwed it into a ball and threw it at the girl with long curls who sat at the front of the classroom, and had spent most of the lesson turned around, watching Iseult. His aim was good; unfortunately, Professor Mundy happened to look up at that moment, and while his ears weren't too good, there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. Jake was informed that if it had not been the first day, he would have lost five points from Gryffindor (the Slytherins looked most disappointed that this was not to be the case). Jake didn't seem fazed. As he sat down, he whispered to Alice:

"Who is that girl?"

But it was Antigone who answered, from her seat beside Sam on the other side of the aisle.

"Ebony Montague. You want to watch out for the Montagues. She's got a sister in fourth year, and a brother in third, and they all stick together. All those Death Eater families stick together." She gave Iseult a suspicious look, which clearly said that the Malfoys really ought to be included in 'those Death Eater families.'

"Well, if they're all like her, you're much better off with us," Jake told Iseult, firmly, and proceeded to spend the rest of the lesson sucking tiny pellets of paper and pelting Ebony Montague with them whenever Professor Mundy wasn't watching.

Iseult was glad when the lesson ended though, and they were free to go. This wasn't going to be easy; many of the Gryffindors did not want her, and the Slytherins considered her a traitor.

But Ebony Montague had proved one thing to Iseult beyond a shadow of a doubt. She was _not_ in the wrong house.

* * *

"Dear Mum and Dad.

I have to tell you somehow, so I'm just going to do it. I'm in Gryffindor. I'm sorry. That's all there is to tell you really.

Love you,

Issie.

P.S. Please don't be angry Dad."


	3. Unforgivable

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs**

**A/N: Quite a few more people have added the story to alerts – please give me a review as well. No, I'm not going to stop begging for reviews until I get them.**

**This story is rated T, so I shouldn't really need to warn about this, but everyone has different standards of what's offensive, so... there is bad language and fairly mild sexual references in this chapter. No worse than (in fact maybe not as bad as) you'd expect from a bunch of teenagers. That's going to be the case in a lot of chapters, so I'm not going to warn you again.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

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Chapter 3: Unforgivable

_**In which an unpleasant crime is committed, Ron Weasley is late for dinner, two secrets are revealed, questions are asked, and Hazel Kitson decides to investigate.**_

Hermione Weasley looked irritably at her watch.

"He definitely said that he'd be home by now. I can't imagine why it's taking him so long. What's he doing exactly, Harry?"

"Investigating a possible case of the Imperius Curse on a Muggle school child," Harry replied, soberly, "Sorry to have made him late, Hermione, but it was a case with a lot of complications, as I'm sure you can imagine. I had to send the best. I'd have gone with him if I hadn't been snowed under with ridiculous meetings."

Hermione looked horrified.

"The Imperius Curse? Merlin, Harry! No wonder he didn't have time to explain properly. His head just appeared in the fire in my office looking harassed, said that he'd be late home, but that he'd be here by seven thirty at the latest, and then disappeared again."

"I hope it was a false alarm," Ginny shivered, "I'd hate to see that sort of thing starting up again."

"I'm afraid it looks as though it's true," said Harry, "But I'm sure Ron can sort it out. I sent Dennis Creevey with him, so between them they ought to be able to handle pretty much anything. But I doubt if there'll be anything for them to do, beyond interviewing witnesses and examining the scene. Whoever did it'll be long gone by now, and the Magical Law Enforcement people will have taken care of memory modifications."

"Have you heard from Rose or Hugo yet?" Ginny changed the subject.

Hermione shook her head.

"No. It's only two weeks into term, and they've never been the greatest letter writers, those two. What about you?"

"Not yet," Ginny laughed, "Although Lily usually writes fairly quickly. I think the boys think it's beyond their dignity to write to Mum and Dad now they're Sixth and Seventh Years."

Hermione shook her head again, this time in rueful amusement.

"Can you believe it? Your James in his Seventh Year, and Albus and Rose in their Sixth. Seems just yesterday that we were their age."

They were all silent for a moment, remembering where they had been in their Sixth and Seventh Years. None of them needed to say anything; they all knew that the others were also feeling unbelievably relieved that their own children did not have to go through that.

"How's James feeling about NEWTs?" Hermione asked, after a pause.

"Oh, you know Jamie," Harry shook himself out of his reverie, "He never lets silly things like work get to him. He could get top marks in everything if he worked; as it is, he doesn't, but he'll do all right. At least, I hope so."

At that moment, the front door opened and Ron entered, looking tired and dishevelled, as though he had run his hands through his hair several times recently.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, "What happened? What have you been doing all this time? Is everything all right?"

"One question at a time, Hermione," Ron ran a hand across his eyes, "Can I sit down before I start answering them? And is there anything for dinner or have you three hogged it all already?"

"We haven't started yet, Ron. We were waiting for you. But it's all ready, keeping warm in the oven. I'll get it, and then you can tell us all about it while we're eating."

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron, as Hermione placed dishes on the table, "Talk about a complicated case. What have I done to you recently, to deserve that?"

"What happened?" asked Ginny.

Ron gave her a warning look. "Not a word to your friends at the Prophet!"

"Have I _ever _given away something to do with your work?" Ginny exclaimed, indignantly, "I'm _Quidditch_ correspondent, Ron, I don't publish articles about abuse of Muggles."

Ron dug into his soufflé, and put a large forkful into his mouth.

"Mmm," he said, indistinctly, "'s shuvly, 'Mynee."

"Thank you," said Hermione dryly, interpreting the compliment to her cooking, "Wine, Harry? Ginny?"

They accepted, and Hermione poured out.

"Cheers, everybody," Harry raised his glass. When the others had done the same, and the meal was under way, they all looked expectantly at Ron, who swallowed a forkful of green beans and began.

"Well, obviously, I'll write a proper report for you first thing tomorrow, Harry, but you may as well hear it informally now. Complete chaos when we got there. They hadn't done any memory modifications before we arrived, because they thought we'd want to question people. Of course, the Muggles had called the police; luckily one of our lot managed to get wind of it and do some damage control," there were undercover witches and wizards working in strategic positions these days, including high up in the Muggle police force, for just this sort of situation, "But a lot of Muggles had seen things, and of course quite a few of them had told their friends… there are still a bunch of our people out there, tracking down anybody who knows anything and modifying memories. Poor bastards," he put another forkful in his mouth.

"But what had happened?" demanded Hermione, "_Had_ the child been under the Imperious Curse?"

"Oh yes," said Ron, when he had swallowed, "She was still under it when we arrived, although whoever put her under it seemed to have given up exercising any power over her. The child was just sitting there, in a trance; you could hardly get through to her. She'd been wreaking havoc before, though. Got up on a bench on her way to school, and started taking her clothes off, poor kid, and then tried to attack a group of other students with a broken bottle. She's only thirteen."

His listeners looked sickened.

"But who…" whispered Hermione.

Ron shrugged.

"Too early to tell. Obviously, we're working on it. It had been strongly cast; this wasn't the work of an amateur. Lucky for the kid, really. She's being checked over in St Mungo's, but she shouldn't have any lasting effects, the way she might have if the spell had been bungled. The Muggle teachers at the school called their police of course. The kid would probably be in a Muggle mental hospital by now if a witch hadn't happened to be in the vicinity, recognised the symptoms of the Imperius, and contacted us. We interviewed her of course, along with about a hundred Muggles."

"Who was it?" Ginny asked, "Anybody we know?"

"Well, here's the thing," Ron sounded slightly amused, "It was Astoria Malfoy. Who, by the looks of her, is about seven or eight months pregnant."

"No!" Ginny exclaimed, "No wonder she wasn't at Kings Cross!"

Ron nodded. "Yep. So there must still be the odd spark of passion between her and Malfoy. Unless it isn't his, of course, which would explain why they haven't told anybody…"

"Honestly, Ron!" said Hermione, "You're as bad as Rita Skeeter. I expect they only want a bit of privacy. I mean, you don't really expect another baby, do you, when you're both into your forties and your other children are growing up."

"She did ask me not to mention it to anyone," Ron admitted.

"So you came home and told your wife, your sister and your best friend. How professional."

"Well, I know you won't spread it any further," said Ron, calmly, "It isn't as though I've told Dominique. Although, now I think about it, that isn't a bad idea… don't look at me like that, Hermione, I'm joking. But you have to admit, it would be very funny to see Malfoy's face if that little fact got published. And where's the use of having a niece who writes a gossip column if you can't leak little bits of news…?"

"Ronald, you are supposed to keep the statements of witnesses _confidential,_" said Hermione.

"All right, all right," Ron rolled his eyes, "Although people are going to know pretty soon. But anyway, the Malfoys are one line of investigation we're following. Bit suspicious, it happening right down the road from them. It isn't as though there are a lot of witches and wizards in that area."

"But if the Malfoys were responsible, why would Astoria call you in?" Ginny pointed out.

"Could be a blind," Ron said, "It doesn't look as if whoever it was wanted to hide it. It was very much a public statement. Served no purpose whatsoever except to victimise Muggles and cause trouble for the Ministry. They wanted us to find out, I'm sure of that."

He looked at Harry, who had been silent.

"Could be," Harry agreed, "Although I'm having a hard time believing that Astoria Malfoy, heavily pregnant and with no known history of Dark Art activity, was responsible for this mindless piece of nastiness. Even Malfoy himself… to all appearances, he's completely renounced the Dark Arts. What on earth would he want to do this for? It's more than just troublemaking. You said the girl tried to stab other Muggles. People could have been killed."

"Hm," Ron nodded, "But you have to admit, it's a coincidence, happening in the very same town."

"Yes," said Harry, slowly, "It is a coincidence. And as you say, it isn't a wizarding community. But it may be just that: a coincidence. We mustn't let our prejudices against Draco Malfoy make us jump to conclusions."

Ron nodded in agreement.

"You don't think somebody could have done it deliberately, do you?" asked Hermione, frowning, "I mean, the Malfoys aren't exactly popular in any circle, are they?"

"You mean somebody could have tried to frame them?" Harry frowned, "It's possible," He looked at Ron, "Well, you're in charge of this one, Ron. Wish I could help, to be honest. Life used to be more interesting when I wasn't head of the office. It's all meetings and forms and bloody bureaucracy these days."

It wasn't until they had finished the main course and Hermione had brought in the raspberry meringue, that Ron remembered something else.

"Oh, I found out something else from Astoria as well. Nothing to do with the case. But something our children have failed to inform us about," he sounded slightly put out.

"What?" Ginny stared at him.

"That little girl of theirs – whatever her name is – has been put in Gryffindor."

* * *

It was raining on the day of the first Gryffindor Quidditch practice. Trials had happened the previous week; two valued players had left in the summer, and James had had to replace them. The two new players – one Chaser and one Beater – were both Fourth Years. Everybody had been mildly surprised at the choice of Lily Potter as the new Chaser, and there were a few nasty whispers of favouritism. Nobody who had not seen Lily fly would have had her down as a Quidditch player; she was the pretty, feminine, dreamy one, who would forget her head if it wasn't screwed on. On the pitch, though, as her classmates could testify, she lost all dreaminess and became a razor sharp player.

One of those classmates, Rufus Magorian, had also made the team as the second Beater. There was no surprise there. Rufus was built of solid muscle, and had only narrowly missed out on the team the previous year, losing out to the greater experience of Sebastian Graves, two years his senior.

James himself had been slightly surprised at his sister's display of skill. He had known that she could play of course, but she had never shown any interest in trying out for the team before. He knew that people would think it was favouritism – which couldn't have been further from the truth, as he had been slightly reluctant to pick his sister as his fellow Chaser – but she really had been by far the best, except for Angharad Jones.

Jones, the daughter of the legendary Gwenog, had tried out for Chaser each year there had been a vacancy, but as James kept telling her exasperatedly, they needed her as Seeker. She was really a far better Chaser, but they had nobody else who was any good at all as Seeker. It was the one weak point of the team, and it annoyed James no end.

But Angharad had to stay as Seeker, which meant that Lily was in.

This was James' third year as Captain. The first year, they had won the cup, despite James himself spending one of the matches in St Mungo's after swallowing a piece of his Uncle George's famous exploding chewing gum (he still blamed Louis for that). Last year too had been his, but they had only just scraped it after an embarrassing lose to Slytherin. This year, James was determined not to repeat the same mistakes. The trouble was, Scorpius Malfoy (much as James hated to admit it) was a better Seeker than Angharad, and he owned a faster broom. And Derrick was back to full health after her nasty attack of Dragon Pox last year, more lethal than ever (she had spent six months in quarantine, and James supposed she'd had nothing better to do than practise her flying) and, rumour had it, made quite a team with the two new Slytherin Chasers, Nott and Dimitar.

But James' father had won the cup when he had been Captain, and so had his mother and, according to the stories, his grandfather and namesake. He was not going to be the first Potter to lose it (of course, technically, his mother had not been a Potter when she had won the cup, but that was an irrelevant detail). Quidditch was the one thing that James knew for sure that he could do as well as, if not better than, his father. Not that he really cared about seeming as good as his father – he was his own person he told himself firmly, and it didn't matter that as a Seventh Year, his patronus could only just be called corporeal – but still... Quidditch was important.

So he had drawn up a gruelling practise schedule, and was being very firm about the whole team turning up to them all. He had not made the mistake he had made in his Fifth Year, when he had tried to make the team get up before breakfast and had had to face down a rebellion (co-ordinated by his cousin Fred, who was no longer at school, and Sapphie Jordan), but he had done everything short of that. With two new team members, they had to be up to scratch in time for their first match.

And if that meant practising through the grimmest late September weather that the Scottish Highlands could throw at them, he thought, looking out of the window one Saturday morning, then so be it. He marched his team out on to the pitch, and made sure that they all listened to his ideas about tactics.

Lily stood resignedly on the sodden grass, her wet robes clinging uncomfortably and her hair plastered to her face, not listening to her brother's lecture. Trust James to plan a Quidditch practice in the rain. And trust James to look entirely cheerful about the whole thing, as though he had not noticed the water pouring down on him. Seb Graves had edged up next to her.

"Don't worry," he muttered in her ear, as James finished talking and they mounted their brooms, "I'll try not to hit the bludger at you."

She looked at him in surprise.

"Why? That's the whole point, isn't it?"

He smiled at her, wondering whether she knew how lovely she looked with her hair all wet.

"I'd hate it if I hurt you."

She smiled at him. "You don't need to worry. I'll be fine. But thanks."

Her smile was, as Zeke Lucas had observed in typical poetic (albeit not very original) fashion the previous day, like the sun coming out.

Seb suddenly became aware that his captain was looking at him with a fixed scowl. Hurriedly, he swung a leg over his broom, and flew off into position, leaving Lily looking after him in a puzzled way.

"Lily!" James' voice brought her back down to earth, "Come on!"

Nobody could have said that the practice was a great success. The visibility was awful, and everybody was wet and cold. Lily was having trouble staying on her broom because the handle was so slippery. Seb might have promised not to hit bludgers at her, but Rufus had no such qualms, and hit them with a force she thought quite unnecessary. Eventually, Sapphie, who played Keeper, yelled, "Hoi, James! This is stupid! We can't play like this!"

James, apparently, was uncomfortable enough himself to agree finally, and they flew down, feeling vaguely depressed. Angharad Jones, who had had little to do as Seeker, was found to be so cold that she had turned blue and had trouble getting off her broom. Sapphie glared at James.

"Look what you've done!"

"Merlin, Ang!" James looked worried, "Have you got bad circulation or something? Come on, we'll get you back to the Common Room, and get you a hot drink," and he put his arm round her shoulder, took her broom off her and ushered her away.

"James Potter, Prince of Chivalry!" Sapphie muttered, as the rest of the team trailed after them. Lily giggled, but the other Chaser, one Emilia Brooke, looked reproachful.

"He's only being nice."

Sapphie rolled her eyes.

"And you only fancy the pants off him, Em."

"I don't!" Emilia turned pink.

"You do!" retorted Sapphie, "You and just about every girl in the school. I bet Angharad doesn't care how cold she is right now; she's got the great James Potter's arm around her. Come on, Emmy, we all know you and James…" Sapphie broke off suddenly, with a glance at Lily. Of course Lily knew what her brother was like too, but still, there were some things you didn't say in front of little sisters. And Lily was much too naïve for her own good sometimes. Who knew? Maybe Lily was unaware that James Potter had pulled half the girls in the top three years (Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well as Gryffindor), and quite possibly slept with more than a few of them.

"Well, so have you!" Emmy retorted, regardless of Lily. Sapphie had the grace to go a little red, and she pulled a face at Emilia, jerking her head at Lily, who was listening with fascination.

"What?" the younger girl demanded, "You and James have… what? Kissed? I never knew that, Sapph!"

Sapphie swallowed a laugh. Lily really did have her head in the clouds.

"Once. And it'll never happen again, I promise you that."

"Why?" Lily asked, innocently, "Was it horrible?"

This time, Sapphie did not succeed in swallowing the gurgle of mildly horrified laughter.

"No, it wasn't horrible. I just don't happen to fancy him that much. In fact, not at all any more, if I ever did. It was a while ago. I have no interest at all in James. Which I know puts me in a minority, but there you are."

Afterwards, when Lily had disappeared, Sapphie looked angrily at Emilia.

"For Merlin's sake, Em! What possessed you to say that in front of Lily?"

"You started it!" Emilia protested, with perfect truth.

"I have a boyfriend!" Sapphie hissed, "And I'd really rather he didn't find out that I ever shagged his brother!"

* * *

Hazel Kitson left the English classroom, and headed across the bridge towards the Common Room. Mr Carpenter had kept them after the bell, and the others would probably already be waiting for her, so that they could go into town for lunch. That was one of the perks of being a Sixth Former; that and free lessons, and not having to wear uniform.

A small group of girls caught her eye a she passed them, and she glanced at them, slightly puzzled. She knew one of them; Charlotte Davis was her friend Anna's little sister, and she vaguely recognised the others as Charlotte's friends, all in Year Nine, three years younger than Hazel. But there was something not quite right... they looked almost furtive, and as she looked at them, she realised with surprise that Charlotte was crying.

Hazel had known Charlotte for years, and she stopped, looking concerned. If it had just been a thirteen-year-old girl getting emotional, she wouldn't have interfered, but something told her that it was more than that. Charlotte looked almost hysterical, and she wasn't somebody who cried easily. And the expressions on the faces of the other three girls ranged from confused to plain terrified. Something bad had happened.

"Hey, Charlotte," she said hesitantly, not wanting to shove in where she wasn't wanted, but unable to walk past without checking what was going on. Anna hadn't said anything this morning.

The girls looked round, and Charlotte made an effort to choke back the tears.

"H...Hazel," Charlotte tried to mop her eyes without smudging the mascara she was wearing; a fairly fruitless task, as it was already in black rivulets down her cheeks.

"What's the matter?" Hazel asked gently, "What's happened, Char?"

Charlotte bit her lip and looked at the others. They were looking wary, but also sort of... hopeful. As if they could really do with telling somebody a bit older, Hazel thought.

"You know Fiona Murphy?" a small, skinny girl Hazel knew by sight but not by name asked her. Hazel nodded.

"Yes. Why?"

Fiona was Charlotte's best friend. She was a quiet girl, who was often round at the Davis family's house when Hazel went to see Anna. You didn't normally see either of the two without each other at school, except when their timetables forced them apart. Hazel had got the impression of a nice, slightly shy, quite studious girl.

The younger girls glanced at each other again.

"She's been off school the last few days," one of them said slowly.

"Oh, yes," Hazel suddenly recalled hearing a rumour – spread by some stupid little Year Eight boy who no doubt thought it was funny – that Fiona had gone crazy on her way to school, and tried to stab someone, and was currently strait-jacketed in a mental hospital (except that the spreader of the rumours had called it a 'loony bin'). The true story, which Fiona's friends had been quick to broadcast in response to this, seemed to be that Fiona had fainted in the street, which was dramatic enough, but probably not cause for great alarm. Or maybe it was, Hazel thought worriedly. Maybe there really was something seriously wrong with Fiona Murphy...

"Is she okay?" she asked.

The girl who was her informant shrugged.

"We don't know. We tried to call her, but her mum answered and wouldn't let us talk to her. She said Fi wasn't well, and wouldn't be at school for a few days."

Hazel frowned.

"So..."

"That isn't all," Charlotte had got control of herself, although her voice was still wobbly, "You know those stupid rumours Jason Dean was spreading...?

"Well, yeah, but no-one believed them; not really..." Hazel began, but Charlotte interrupted.

"Hazel, I don't know what to do. If we tell you, will you swear not to tell anyone?"

Hazel looked seriously at the younger girl.

"That depends what you're going to tell me, Char. If it's something really serious, I might _have_ to..."

Charlotte swallowed, and wiped some more mascara across her cheek.

"I only found it this morning. And I got such a shock when I saw it... I don't understand it... and I'm really scared, Haze," she held something out, and Hazel looked at it. It was an iphone. Of course, Charlotte wasn't really supposed to have it at school, but everyone did. She looked quizzically at the girls.

"A phone?"

Charlotte shook her head.

"No, the phone's mine. Look at the video."

Hazel looked down at it and pressed play.

It was an ordinary, bad little iphone video. It started with a moment of blurred confusion. A girl's voice was shrieking and, closer, a different girl's voice was laughing and saying, _"Quick, get it on camera! What the hell's she doing?"_

_"I _am_ getting it on camera!" _Hazel heard Charlotte's voice on the video, and then the picture came clearer. Hazel peered closely at it.

It was Fiona Murphy, in her school uniform, standing on a park bench, swinging her school bag round her head and shrieking. Hazel stared at it. That wasn't Fiona behaviour. And... Jesus, what the hell was she doing? She was taking her skirt off...! Hazel glanced up at the Year Nine girls in shock. They were all watching her intently.

"What the hell...?" she began.

"Keep watching," said Charlotte tremulously.

Hazel's eyes returned reluctantly to the screen. This new development had obviously been too much for Fiona's friends. Charlotte had clearly stopped concentrating on her video, but forgotten to stop filming. As a result, things were confused; the picture was unfocussed and kept going black as somebody blocked it. But their voices were clear, and had gone from finding the incident funny to finding it alarming. They were trying to control their friend, who, by the sound of the increasingly hysterical argument, was resisting them. A boy's voice joined them, saying _"What's she doing? Is she pissed?" _in tones of awe, and Hazel thought she could hear other voices in the background; Fiona had obviously been attracting an audience.

Then there was the sound of breaking glass, and somebody screamed. Charlotte's voice shouted Fiona's name, and there was a rising noise, in which an adult's voice could finally be heard. And then, just for a moment, the picture came clear again, although the camera had obviously been forgotten in Charlotte's hand.

Fiona Murphy was standing in the road in her blouse, blazer and knickers, clutching in her hand the neck of a beer bottle that she must have picked up off the ground. She had clearly just smashed the end of it off, and was whirling round to threaten her watchers with a lethal, jagged broken edge, while they backed away in a hurry, panic spreading.

Then the video went black, although not before Hazel had seen, with yet another shock, a familiar figure in the background.

For a moment after the video had finished, there was a silence, then she looked up and met Charlotte Davis' eyes, miserable and frightened.

"Fucking hell," Hazel said flatly, "You mean it's true after all?"

Charlotte bit her lip.

"No. I mean... yes, I suppose so... But the thing is, Hazel," her voice shook, "I don't remember it. None of us do. We remember walking to school, all of us together," she looked around for support, and the other girls nodded in agreement, "And Fi was there. And we were just talking, and then Fi suddenly started to look funny, and then she just fell on the ground. Fainted, you know. And people were sort of gathered round, and a man and a woman stopped and helped us, and somebody called an ambulance, and they took her away. It was bloody scary, but..." she took the phone back from Hazel, "None of _that_ happened."

Hazel stared incredulously at the girl.

"But Charlotte, I've just _seen_ it."

"I know," Charlotte looked wretched, "I've just seen it too! Now you know why I got such a shock!"

Hazel blinked slowly.

"And... none of you remember any of it?"

The girls all shook their heads.

"Nobody remembers it," the skinny girl offered, "Except Jason Dean. There were loads of people who saw it, and they all remember exactly the same stuff as us. They've been helping us tell everyone that Jason's talking crap. Only... he isn't talking crap..."

Hazel's brain was racing, and she bit her lip. Think. She needed to think.

To most people, this would be a completely laughable occurrence. An impossible one. But Hazel knew that there were things in the world that most people knew nothing about. Possibilities most people would never think of. She was pretty sure that there was no such thing as natural mass amnesia. But there _were_ such things as Memory Charms; Scorpius had told her about them. And there were also things that would make a thirteen-year-old girl behave very strangely. Hazel did not pretend to understand most of them. But something very bizarre was going on.

"What should we do?" Charlotte asked, and her voice sounded suddenly very young.

Hazel hesitated.

"Look, I'm sure there's a rational explanation," she said, knowing that it wasn't a very believable thing to say; but also that the girls would probably believe her anyway. That was the thing, wasn't it? People _always_ had to believe in the rational explanation, because there was no other option. Otherwise the whole thing was impossible, as far as they were concerned.

"Don't say anything to anyone," she went on. Not until Hazel had had time to investigate a bit anyway.

"People can do some funny things when they're not well," she added, "You hear about it all the time. People sort of having funny mental attacks because of something physical that's wrong with them. You know, a bit like having a high temperature and getting delusions. Fi was probably feverish, so her mum's probably telling you the exact truth; she's not too well, but she'll be better soon. You said they took her to hospital; so the doctors'll have seen her. And I'm sure you'd have heard if she was seriously ill. It's probably just bad flu or something; that can make you really feverish." They were believing her, thank God; she could see the hope in their eyes. They were believing her because they wanted to believe her.

"But... why wouldn't we remember it?" Charlotte asked doubtfully.

"Well, you can block out things that really scare you, can't you?" Hazel tried desperately to sound logical and reasonable, not as though she was making it up as she went along, "Repressed memories, they call them. I can't explain it, but it seems like you're all just sort of... pushing the memories down..."

"But don't you have to have counselling or something for repressed memories?" one of the other girls said, "Don't you have to see a doctor?"

Hazel laughed nervously.

"Only if it's something like, you know, memories of abuse or something. Something that went on for ages, and that you have to face to be able to get on with your life. This isn't going to affect your lives, is it? If I were you, I'd keep quiet. As it is, everyone believes you not Jason Dean. If it gets out that he was right about some things, people'll think he was right about everything and that Fiona really has been in a mental hospital. You don't want her to come back to a load of stories, most of which are bollocks..."

They were nodded; that was something they could understand. Hazel put a hand on Charlotte's arm, feeling bad for the lies.

"You'd better go to the toilets and get yourself cleaned up. And go and have some lunch. Get a tea from the machine or something. You'll probably feel better then."

She watched them walk away. It probably wouldn't last long. They'd think about what she'd said, and they'd realise the flaws in it. They'd have questions, and she didn't have the answers. All she'd done was buy some time.

And the first thing she was going to do was email Scorpius. She was convinced that there was magic behind this, and anyway, there was a mystery he could perhaps clear up. Of course it _might _only be a coincidence, but Hazel wondered. She had recognised the figure in the long skirt and coat in the background of the picture, and she had to tell Scorpius about it.

It had been Astoria Malfoy.


	4. Reading the Daily Prophet

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot.**

**A/N: Hello, people who were reading Choices. I know you're there (one or two of you have told me you would be, and one has even left a review). Hope you enjoy this one too. Please note Meredith Hewitt who comes into this one. Remember Auror Hewitt? That's her mother (that is, Meredith is the daughter).**

**I have to apologise (and thank you so much to Kris 77 for pointing it out) – I don't know if any of you even noticed, but _somehow_ Chapter 3 ended up replaced by the wrong piece of writing. It was definitely the _right_ piece of writing when I posted it, because I had two reviews for it, clearly talking about the right thing. And then I didn't touch this fic again until today, when I was informed of the mistake and corrected it. So unless I am changing my stories around in my sleep, it's a complete mystery. Hope nobody was hopelessly confused by it.**

**This chapter is quite short, especially compared to the chapters I've been posting for Choices recently, but if I'd included the next bit, it would have got too long.**

**I do love reviews, in case you were wondering.**

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Chapter 4: Reading the Daily Prophet

_**In which several people read a newspaper article, Lily gets a date, and James makes some dangerous enemies.**_

"Seen the news?" Meredith Hewitt asked as Lily Potter slipped into the seat beside her at the breakfast table. Lily stared at her friend.

"No, why?"

Meri pushed the Daily Prophet in front of her. It was folded over to the second page. A harassed picture of Lily's Uncle Ron was trying to avoid the photographers.

"_Muggle Terror Returns_!" screamed the headline, "_Information leaked from the Ministry!_"

Lily scanned down the page.

"_For the first time for almost a decade_," the paper claimed, "_A Muggle has been targeted with an Unforgivable Curse_…" Lily let her eyes skim over the article, taking in phrases here and there.

"_Muggle school-girl… No other details… Unconfirmed by the Ministry… Ronald Weasley, the Auror reputed to be in charge of the case, refused to comment… Location unknown, but rumours are that the incident occurred a short distance from the home of ex-Death Eater, Draco Malfoy… Possibility of the involvement of the Malfoys… Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Office, said only that an incident was being investigated but that there was no serious damage and no security breach…_"

The rest of the article went on to talk about how the Auror Office and the rest of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, had improved crime rates recently, and how this was the first such incident since Lily's father had taken over the Office.

"Wow!" she glanced down the table to where a certain small girl with black hair, blue eyes and an elfin face was chattering happily to Alice Longbottom, "That's horrible. And typical of the Daily Prophet to pin it on the nearest ex-Death Eater."

"Your mum works for them," Meri pointed out.

"For the Sports Section. She doesn't write articles like this. Poor Uncle Ron," Lily went on sympathetically, "He looks a bit stressed."

"I take it you didn't know anything about it?" Meri questioned.

Lily shook her head. "Not a word. I hope it isn't true. You never know with the Daily Prophet." Her eyes returned to the article and fell on the paragraph about the Malfoys.

"_The name of Draco Malfoy_," it read, "_is, of course, well known. Despite being a prominent and respected family before the war, the Malfoys showed their true colours when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned to power in 1996. Lucius Malfoy, father of Draco, fought in the Battle at the Ministry, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was first confirmed as having returned, and was subseuqently imprisoned in Azkaban. Draco Malfoy himself, then aged just sixteen, is known to have been the youngest of the Death Eaters at the time of the War. Both father and son fought in the Battle of Hogwarts._

_"Although Harry Potter himself is said to have given evidence leading to their final acquittal, there are many in the wizarding world who believe that a leopard never truly changes its spots, and that the Malfoys' behaviour at the end of the War, when they apparently reneged on their master, was determined by self-interest, not by regret for their past actions._

_"Even convicted Death Eaters have spoken out against them. One such figure, recently released from Azkaban and wishing to remain anonymous, told this paper that the Malfoys _'always manage to wriggle out of trouble and leave others to take the blame_._' _Although there is no confirmation that this latest incident was in fact in Mirlton, the northern town where Draco Malfoy has made his home, rumours abound, and it is said that Astoria Malfoy, wife of Draco, is helping the Ministry with their inquiries. Mrs Malfoy has not been seen in public for some weeks and suspicion is bound to fall upon her and her husband."_

Lily shook her head.

"I feel sorry for them. Whatever they do, it'll always be wrong."

"Who?" Meri asked in surprise, "You dad and the others? Or the Muggles?"

"No, the Malfoys," Lily said absently.

"Oh. Yeah, I s'pose," Meri agreed, "It isn't really fair, is it?"

"Hey Lily," they were interrupted by a Sixth Year boy, Ezekiel Lucas, who slid into a seat opposite them.

Meri rolled her eyes. It was funny how boys never seemed to see her when she was sitting beside Lily these days. Although Zeke was a bit of a special case; he had been infatuated with Lily since her Second Year.

"Hey, Zeke." Lily barely lifted her eyes from the paper.

"Um, Lily?"

"Hmm?" She wasn't really paying attention.

"Lily," he tried again, "I was just wondering… would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me when we go next week?"

"Oh," Lily looked surprised, while Meri choked on her pumpkin juice. Zeke was asking Lily out? After two whole years of gazing hopelessly from afar, he was actually asking her out? What had brought this on?

She glanced up the table and, out of the corner of her eye, caught sight of Hugo Weasley, Lily's cousin and their classmate, grinning manically at her, and giving her a thumbs up. She closed her eyes and almost groaned. So Hugo was behind this.

Hugo never seemed to realise when his interference wasn't wanted or needed. As far as Meri knew, he had never had a girlfriend himself, but this didn't stop him from being incorrigibly interested in other people's romantic affairs. He appeared to believe that all people needed was a little encouragement (usually from him) and they'd fall madly in love and live happily after.

Hugo had clearly encouraged Zeke to think that he had a chance with Lily if he asked, and probably had no idea at all how cruel that was.

"Okay," Lily smiled slowly at Zeke, "That would be nice."

Of course she had said yes. The trouble was, Meri thought, she didn't really mean it. Oh, she meant it that she'd go to Hogsmeade. It just didn't mean what Zeke hoped it did. Lily didn't _do _relationships. She would go on a date with just about anyone. She liked dates. She just didn't take them seriously, and she utterly refused to believe that the boys were serious about them either. Usually, it was Meri's role to protect her friend from possible predators, but Zeke didn't come into that category.

Zeke actually _liked _Lily.

The boy blushed scarlet and looked delighted.

"Really?" he asked.

"Course, why not?" she smiled at him.

Meri sighed inwardly. Once again, she'd have nobody to go to Hogsmeade with, and would have to tag along either with Freya and Claire, or with Hugo and the other boys. She had got used to it towards the end of last year, but she missed the days at the start of Third Year, when she and Lily had had special days for the two of them on the Hogsmeade outings.

"You don't mind, do you, Mer?" Lily asked, when Zeke had gone, radiant at his good fortune.

"No, course not," Meri put a bright smile on her face, "I'll go with some of the others. But Lil, _why _are you actually going with Zeke?"

"Why not?" Lily continued with her breakfast, "I like him."

"But not like _that_!"

Lily thought about this. "I don't know. He's quite cute. And nice."

"But do you want him to be your boyfriend, Lil?"

"No, of course not," Lily sounded shocked, "I don't want _anyone _to be my boyfriend."

"But Lily, don't you get it? That's what he wants. That's why he asked you."

"What, _Zeke_? No way!" Lily declared, "It's just a bit of fun, Meri."

Meredith frowned, silent. There was no arguing with Lily sometimes. But Lily seemed set to turn into a female version of her brother – James too liked his 'bits of fun' – and, much as Meri, a self-proclaimed feminist, hated to acknowledge the fact, society had a harsher word for girls like that than it did for boys.

Either that, or Lily was going to end up getting taken in, in her naivety, by someone who did not just want 'fun' and didn't want to take no for an answer.

And if that happened, it would be Meredith Hewitt picking up the pieces.

* * *

Lily and Meri weren't the only people to have seen the papers that morning. The First Years might have been oblivious, but Rose Weasley scanned the front page in silence, and then tossed it in front of James as she got up to leave.

He looked at her in irritation, since it had landed on top of his breakfast, but she had not waited, and was already half way out of the hall with Emmy Brooke and Helena Green (Sapphie Jordan would normally have been with them, but she had disappeared somewhere, presumably with Albus). James glanced down at the newspaper she had thrown at him, and the headline caught his eye. Frowning, he picked it up and read it. His frown deepened.

His cousin Louis joined him a few moments later, looking dishevelled and grumpy, as he always did in the mornings. The blonde boy pushed into the space beside James and helped himself to coffee and toast before looking at James.

When he did look, Louis stared at his cousin for a few moments, while he chewed the large mouthful he had taken and took a gulp of coffee, waiting for his brain to catch up with his eyes.

"Since when do you read the paper?" he asked at last, "And why has it got egg yolk all over it?"

James passed his cousin the newspaper.

"Have a look at that."

Louis looked at it, still eating the piece of toast. He looked disgusted.

"That's sick!"

"That's ex-Death Eaters for you," said James angrily, looking over at the Slytherin table, "I can't believe the Malfoys didn't end up in Azkaban, where they deserved to be."

"It was your dad who kept them out of it," Louis pointed out, having finally woken up completely.

"Yeah, well," James said darkly, "Maybe he made a mistake. If this is true..."

Louis shrugged.

"They'll get them this time, if it is. They've already got one of them. Astoria Malfoy. That's Malfoy's mum, isn't it?"

"Must be," James agreed, "I wonder if it was her or her husband. Either way, Dad and Uncle Ron won't be likely to let them get away with it this time. It's ages since something like this happened. Bloody Malfoys. They're all the same."

* * *

Scorpius had seen the paper too, and had promptly looked sick with horror. Calypso, reading over his shoulder, had gazed at him in concern.

"Scorp..." she began.

"Don't say anything," he said harshly, and stared again at the sentence that had most concerned him. It wasn't the stuff about his father having been a Death Eater; he knew all that, and he heard about it on a regular basis. It was the sentence about his mother 'helping the Aurors with their inquiries' that had made his heart sink.

"It's bollocks," he muttered, "It's a load of shit, as usual. She wouldn't. Not _Mum_... It's ridiculous."

"Of course it is," Calypso agreed, "It's the Daily Prophet. They've probably got it all wrong. Who knows what really happened? It keeps saying that the whole story's 'unconfirmed.' It might _all_ be a load of crap."

But it wasn't. Scorpius knew that it wasn't, because he had received a frantic email from Hazel telling him all about it. It had really happened, and all the signs _were_ of an Imperius Charm.

But the idea that his mother could have had something to do with it was ludicrous. She had been there though; Hazel had said so. At a guess, she was their best witness. Perhaps she wasn't under suspicion at all, and it _was_ just the Daily Prophet making a better story of it.

Other people, on the other hand, seemed to be rather more willing to believe the Prophet's version of events. Several of his housemates made a point of coming up to him and asking him whether it was true that his mother had been arrested for Imperiusing a Muggle. Most of them were smirking; the odd one actually seemed admiring, and Simon Hollins, a Seventh Year Slytherin prefect, said that he had not realised that Astoria Malfoy was still 'one of us.'

Scorpius decided quickly that he could do without that sort of popularity.

Unfortunately, he also bumped into James Potter and his friends as he was coming out of Transfiguration that day.

"Seen the paper?" James asked Adam Carson (twin brother of the fair-haired Annie) loudly, shooting a glance at Scorpius as he passed close by the Sixth Year, "At their old tricks again!"

"Aren't they?" Scorpius was unable able to resist responding, "The Prophet ought to have restrictions placed on what they can print. Thought they'd got rid of that with Rita Skeeter, but the current lot are obviously no better."

James narrowed his eyes – Scorpius was fully aware that Ginny Potter worked for the Prophet – and retorted, "How's your mother, Malfoy? I heard she was, er, what was it? 'Helping the Aurors with their investigation.' Hope she's not too… _upset _by it all."

Even James had not expected the reaction he got from Scorpius for that shot. The young Malfoy started violently when James first asked about his mother, and then colour flooded his face as James continued his speech. He gritted his teeth.

"My mother was a _witness_, Potter, as you'd know if your father trusted you enough to tell you anything about what's going on."

It was a false shot, because although Scorpius had written to his parents after he had received Hazel's email, asking what was going on, he had had no reply; he only knew that his mother had been a witness because of Hazel, and he had no idea what capacity she was being questioned in. But James did not know that, and scowled at the thought that Draco and Astoria Malfoy might have told their son more than Harry Potter had.

Scorpius did not wait for more; James Potter could win any argument by simply taking no notice of anything the other person said. Instead, he turned and walked away with Calypso and Danny. James could not resist getting the last word in, though, even if it was not a particularly witty one.

"You Malfoys are all the same!" he called after Scorpius' departing back, "You can try and persuade us it was all a mistake, but you don't change! You'll always be evil bastards!"

"James!" Fenella Belby hissed in his ear, and James turned to look at her.

"What?" he demanded, and then he saw the small group of Gryffindor First Years walking past, a small dark head turned away from him in mortification, and a pair of cornflower blue eyes set in a blonde-pigtailed face glaring fiercely at him as she passed.

"Oh, bugger," James said under his breath, and glanced guiltily at his friends. Fenella raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I didn't know she was there, did I?" he said, defensively, "I was only having a go at Malfoy. Anyway, would you care about her feelings so much if she was in Slytherin too? But suddenly she's a Gryffindor, and we have to treat her like she's one of us!"

"She _is_ one of us, James," Fenella pointed out, "And hating the Slytherins like you do is just stupid anyway. Your own father's been quoted saying that the House hatreds only help to breed Dark Magic."

"Anyway, I reckon it's young Longbottom you need to watch out for," Adam joked, lightening the mood, "Did you see the look she gave you? You're in trouble there, Jamie."

James laughed too, and even Fenella joined in, albeit a little reluctantly.


	5. Hogsmeade Day

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot**

**A/N: Okay, thanks to thenewkait, arwenjanelilylyra and Essalinn for the signed reviews. Thanks also to the unsigned reviewer, who gave their name simply as 'hello.' (I have a feeling from the tone that you might actually be one of my usual signed reviewers – am I right?) **

**Anyway, as it was unsigned I couldn't give you a personal reply. But yes, don't worry, I will be developing the characters a lot more. The first few chapters were introducing quite a lot of characters, so nobody got the chance to develop much, but certain people will hopefully evolve over the course of the next few chapters. These aren't quite the characters in Choices though. They're five or six years younger, so don't expect them to be exactly the same. Lily, for example, is only fourteen and has a way to go before she becomes the Lily of Choices – just now, she **_**is**_** quite naïve and clueless. But she's going to grow up a bit through this story, and prove that she isn't actually brainless at all... And she'll soon grow a bit of attitude as well :-)**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Hogsmeade Day**

_**In which Meri takes a walk, a lot of insults and hexes are exchanged, a map is stolen and Lily is worried...**_

A small group of Fourth Years sat squeezed in around a table in the Three Broomsticks. The pub was as crowded and noisy as it usually was on the days the students came down from Hogwarts. Meri found herself perched on the edge of a seat, with Claire Baynard occupying the rest of it, and holding the edge of the table to stop herself toppling off. It wasn't very comfortable.

"Anyone fancy a game of cards?" Rufus Magorian asked cheerfully, producing a deck of exploding snap. There was agreement around the table, and Meri sighed.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy a game of snap sometimes, but it wasn't exactly her idea of a fun day out. She She wondered what Lily was doing. Probably kissing Zeke Lucas in the woods somewhere. God, Lily could be… no, not stupid. Just thoughtless. That was the word. Lily just didn't _think_ about things properly. Poor Zeke.

Suddenly, Meri wasn't in the mood any more. She wanted to be outside in the fresh air, instead of the close warmth of the pub, which suddenly seemed a little claustrophobic.

She stood up abruptly as Rufus began to deal the cards out. They looked up at her in surprise.

"I think I'm going to head back," she said, giving them half a smile, "I… I've got a lot of work to do. I'll see you later."

It wasn't true, she thought, as she forced her way out of the pub; she had already finished all her work. But she suddenly wanted to be by herself, and it was an excuse. She looked back as she reached the door. Rufus was dealing the cards and the others were watching him and chatting idly. They didn't look up as she left the pub.

* * *

"'Tisn't fair," Alice Longbottom muttered rebelliously, "I mean, I've been to Hogsmeade loads of times! I come here all the time in the holidays when Dad's got work to do, and he lets me run around wherever I want, even down to Hogsmeade. What do they think's going to happen to us? It isn't fair that First Years aren't allowed to go there."

The Gryffindor First and Second Years were mostly gathered disconsolately in the Common Room, while the older students were down in the village. Alice, Issie and Jake had claimed one corner for themselves.

Jake looked around him for inspiration.

"Are there any secret passages here?" he asked, suddenly.

Alice nodded.

"Yes, lots. I know some of them. I found them when I was exploring, while Dad did his work."

"Really?" Jake's eyes lit up, "Can you show us?"

Alice looked doubtful.

"They're out of bounds," she said, "We'd get in _loads_ of trouble if we got caught. Anyway, I only know the ones most people know anyway I should think."

"We don't" Jake pointed out, "At least I don't." He looked questioningly at Issie, who shook her head.

"I think Scorpius did tell me about one. But I can't remember. And I'm not sure if he said he'd used it, or just been told about it."

"If you want secret passages," a voice spoke behind them, "You want James' map."

They turned to see a brown haired, bright eyed Second Year: Lucy Weasley, the youngest Weasley cousin.

Alice's eyes lit up.

"Oh yes!" she said, "I forgot about James' map! Although really, it's Uncle Harry's map, isn't it? Because Uncle Harry still doesn't know James has got it."

Lucy shrugged.

"If he hasn't noticed in four years, I don't reckon he's going to."

"What map?" demanded Jake, "A map of secret passages?"

"A map of Hogwarts," Lucy said, "with all the passages on it. The Potters' grandfather made it."

"But I've never seen it," Alice said gloomily, "James keeps it hidden."

"I've seen it," Lucy said thoughtfully, "Years ago. When James first took it out of Uncle Harry's drawer. All the grown-ups were out, and Teddy and Victoire were supposed to be in charge, but they were kissing in the kitchen, and James brought it downstairs to show Louis. I think the others were playing outside or something, but I was reading a book behind the sofa, and they'd sort of forgotten I was there. He showed Louis how it worked, and I saw. I was only about eight though, so I don't really remember."

"But if we got hold of it…" Jake said slowly, "D'you think you'd remember…?"

"I might…" Lucy grinned at him.

"Well what's the point in saying that?" Lucy's friend, Pádraig Finnegan, demanded, "We don't know where it is."

"It's in James' stuff," said Lucy, simply, "He wouldn't take it to Hogsmeade with him. He doesn't need a map for that. But I know he's got it with him here somewhere."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Issie stood up, and grinned wickedly round at them, "Let's go and get it."

They stared at her. This was an Issie they had not seen before. The shy, insecure little girl had gone and in her place was… something else. She tossed her head, going a bit pink.

"Well. I deserve a pay back on James Potter, after what he said about my family. Let's go and pinch his map."

The others looked at each, the ghosts of grins on all their faces except Alice's.

"Um…" Alice said, "I'm not sure…"

"Oh, come on, Alice," Jake coaxed, "It's only a bit of fun. And it's just a map. What's the worst that can happen? And anyway, Issie's right. Let's get back at Potter for what he said to her brother."

"Fine then," Alice said reluctantly, "But don't blame me if James puts hexes on us all!"

They sauntered casually up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, trying not to look as though they were doing anything special, but their air of nonchalance broke down as they reached the top.

"Come on!" Lucy said, giggling helplessly, and they ran down the corridor to the Seventh Year dormitory.

"There's nobody in there, is there?" Alice asked breathlessly.

"Of course not," Lucy said scornfully, but she looked hesitantly at the door, as if slightly thrown by this suggestion. Boldly, Iseult stepped forwards, grasped the handle and pushed. They held their breath, but nobody shouted at them from the other side of the door.

All inclined to giggle, they crept in.

"It's just like any other dormitory," said Lucy, disappointed.

"Which is James' bed?" whispered Padraig.

Lucy looked over the beds.

"This one," she said, at last. They crowded round. She pointed at a battered Quidditch poster of a team in hideous brown and mustard yellow strips.

"Barnstaple Bears. James' favourite team," Lucy glanced around, "And that's James' hairbrush, that Grandma Weasley gave him last Christmas. And his Remembrall. And his socks on the floor. And, oooh, his _diary_…"

They were all momentarily distracted from the map by this find, but it turned out to be disappointing. James apparently did not write in his diary; no writing appeared even when Lucy tapped it with her wand and muttered "_Aparecium._"

Issie, who was showing a vindictive enthusiasm for the quest, knelt on the floor and pulled James' trunk out from under his bed. It was locked, but again, Lucy pointed her wand.

"_Relashio_."

The lock sprang open, and Issie hauled the lid open. A musty smell of unwashed socks escaped. There were a whole host of things in the bottom; odd socks, crumpled paper, a few books and a Muggle magazine, which Padraig picked up and then dropped as though it had burned him, much to Lucy's amusement, when he saw the practically naked young woman posing on the front.

"I'm taking this!" Lucy muttered, "And if James is ever mean, I'll threaten to show it to Aunt Ginny."

And underneath it all was an old piece of parchment, which Lucy lifted with reverent fingers.

"The map!" Pádraig breathed excitedly.

"How does it work?" Jake whispered.

"I think we should get out of here," said Alice.

Lucy nodded.

"Come on, back to our room."

Pádraig shook his head.

"No, Jake and me can't get to yours. Sliding stairs, remember? Come back to ours."

So they repaired the lock on the trunk, put it back where they'd found it, and made their way back along the deserted corridor to the Second Year boys' room, where Lucy hopped onto Pádraig's bed, crossed her legs, and spread the blank parchment out in front of her. The others gathered around.

"Now," Lucy muttered to herself, "What did James say?" she hesitated for a moment, then tried, "_I swear that I am up to mischief_. No, that's not right. _I swear that I am up to no good_."

Nothing happened.

"I'm sure that was it!" she said, crossly, "_I _promise_ that I am up to no good_?"

Nothing. Lucy frowned and tried to think back to that morning four years ago. She could _hear_ James' voice, only half-broken in those days, saying the words… but what were they? Suddenly, she grinned.

"Got it! _I _solemnly_ swear that I am up to no good_!"

And writing began to appear on the map.

"_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present… THE MARAUDER'S MAP_" And then the writing faded and in its place an intricate web of thin lines appeared.

"Wow," breathed Iseult as the map came into view.

"Who are those people?" asked Jake, "Those… Moony and Wormfoot and the others."

"I don't know," Lucy admitted, "I'm not sure they're real people. Uncle Harry's dad made it."

"What are all those dots moving around?" Alice peered more closely at the map, "They've all got names on them. Are they people?"

"They're all the people in the castle," Lucy told her, "Look, you can see Professor Morrison in his office..."

Issie had been studying the map carefully.

"We could get to Hogsmeade with this," she said suddenly, "We could get _anywhere_. Look at all the secret passages. It's amazing!"

"Let's go to Hogsmeade!" Jake exclaimed, eyes shining.

"What, _now_?" asked Lucy disparagingly, "When most of the school's milling about there? We'd be seen. Better to go another time, when everybody else is here. I reckon we should explore the school instead. We can avoid teachers; the map'll tell us where they are…"

Suddenly, the afternoon was no longer dull. They left the dormitories and the Common Room, and happily explored unknown corridors and secret passages and surprising rooms, hiding from teachers as they appeared (even when there was no real need to, because they weren't anywhere that was forbidden). They discovered that the map also revealed the passwords for various entrances that had hitherto been mysteries, and ended up in the kitchens, coming away happily armed with a good supply of food.

The only thing that they would have liked to see but which the map gave no clues to, was the whereabouts of the famous Chamber of Secrets. Alice swore that she had heard that it was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and they had a look around in there (the boys were a little bit reluctant to go in) but could find no sign of anything that could be an entrance.

At the end of a happy afternoon, they returned to the Gryffindor Common Room. At the Portrait Hole, Issie, who had ended up holding the map last, held it up and Lucy announced that the Mischief was Managed. They watched with fascinated eyes as the thin lines crawled back into the parchment.

Then voices were heard and a group of Fifth Years, including Lucy's prefect sister Molly, came round the corner, so Issie hurriedly shoved the map up her jumper, and they went innocently into the Common Room.

* * *

"Ah, look at them all," Louis Weasley watched a group of chattering Third Years coming out of Honeydukes, laden with their purchases, "So excited, bless their hearts."

His cousin James turned round in amusement.

"I know. Hard to believe we were that excited about Hogsmeade trips once. The place gets a bit old after four years, doesn't it?"

He pointed a wand casually at one of the Third Years' bags, and watched with interest as it split open and the boy stood there swearing, having to make the decision between letting some of the sweets out of his grasp, and picking up his things.

"_James_!" one of the figures just in front of Louis and James had turned and spotted this stunt, "What did you do that for?"

"Because I'm bored," James said simply, "And it was harmless, so don't start, Nell."

"Don't call me Nell," the Head Girl said crossly, but he just grinned at her. Their banter was good-natured; they had been friends since their first morning at Hogwarts.

"Oh look," Adam Carson, who had been walking with Fenella, gave a nod in the other direction, "Here comes some better sport, Jamie."

James looked, and his face broke into a grin at the sight of the three Sixth Year Slytherins approaching.

"Jamie, don't you dare," said Fenella warningly, "I do _not_ want to have to give you detention. And don't encourage him, Adam."

James grinned at her.

"You'd better look the other way then, Nell," he raised his voice, "All right, Malfoy?"

Scorpius turned and looked coolly at James.

"Well, I was a bit better a few minutes ago," he said politely, "How are you feeling yourself?"

James narrowed his eyes. Behind him, he heard Fenella give a frustrated hiss, turn on her heel and stalk into the Three Broomsticks. He thought she might have pulled one or both of the Carson twins with her, which changed the odds slightly, but he wasn't too worried. Louis was still standing beside him.

There was something about Scorpius Malfoy that made James' blood boil. It wasn't just that he was a Slytherin, although that didn't help. And it wasn't just about who his father was, although there was that too. It was something about the boy himself.

He wasn't like the other Slytherins. He was slippery, but he wasn't slippery in a straightforward way, like the rest of them. It was the way he always spoke in that smooth, polite, slightly bored voice; it made James itch to provoke him; to make him loose that bloody cool, superior mask. Which, James was smugly aware, was an ability he had perfected over the years. He could always make Malfoy angry. Make him drop the 'nice guy' act.

_That_ was what really got to James. The way Malfoy made himself out to be a pleasant, reasonable sort of bloke – more pleasant and reasonable than James was himself – when everyone knew that his father had been both a Death Eater and a traitor.

"Have they arrested your mother yet, Malfoy?" It was a cheap shot, and James knew it. There had been more speculation in the news every day, but no more solid facts, and as far as anyone knew, Astoria Malfoy was not facing any charges. But mention of his mother had worked last time, and it worked this time. Scorpius' eyes flashed, but he spoke calmly.

"I'm surprised you don't know the answer to that without asking me."

James smirked.

"Ah, no, Malfoy. I'm afraid your mother and I aren't as _close_ as we used to be…"

"Piss off, Potter!" It was Calypso who spoke, her hand gripping Scorpius' arm tightly.

James noticed that Malfoy had his wand in his hand now, and slid his own out, just in case.

"Jealous, are you, Zabini?" he said to Calypso, "I know you'd have liked to have me for yourself, but you see… I don't do Slytherins. You never know where they've been."

"In your dreams, Potter," Calypso rolled her eyes, "I know with the size of your ego, it's hard for you to believe that any woman _wouldn't_ be gagging for you, but there you go…"

"Actually, Potter," Scorpius had got control of himself again, "My mother was in Slytherin too you know, so it's good to know she's actually safe from your sick fantasies. You know, sometimes I wonder if any of the stories you like to spread around are any _more_ than fantasies; usually, the only people who talk as much about their own sex lives as you do are the people who've never actually _had_ a sex life…"

Calypso and Danny laughed.

"Interesting theory, Scorp," said Danny thoughtfully, "Potter the virgin? Personally, I had my bets on him being gay. In denial, you know? Actually, that would be kind of interesting wouldn't it?" his eyes slid to Louis, "After all, everyone knows what Weasley prefers. Never thought of the two of them being like that…"

Louis roared with laughter, throwing his arm round James' shoulders.

"That's right, Urquhart. You've guessed our secret. You should join us some time; sessions are open to all. Even Slytherins. Don't listen to James here. We're not really that fussy."

Danny looked slightly horrified at this thought, and took a step back. James grinned.

"What's the matter, Urquhart? Got a problem with gay people? Oh yeah, I forgot, Slytherins are prejudiced bastards. Why don't you try spreading your theory around then? See how many girls laugh in your face when you tell them I'm gay. Or how about yours, Malfoy? Think that one might backfire on you, actually. How many girlfriends have _you_ had again?"

"Scorp, Dan, why don't you take _Weasley's_ advice?" Calypso muttered, perfectly audibly, "_Don't listen to Potter_. We ought to feel sorry for him, really. He can't help being an arrogant knobend, after all. It comes of being a celebrity when you've actually never done anything to be famous for yourself. I suppose acting like this makes him believe he might actually have lasted five minutes if _he'd_ ever come up against You-Know-Who. Pathetic, really."

James' brows snapped down furiously at this, but Scorpius spoke before he could retort.

"Yeah, you're right Cal. Don't mind if we leave you to it, do you, Potter? We _were_ having a decent conversation before you decided to join in."

And he turned and walked away, Cal and Danny following him.

"Give my regards to your mum when you see her, Malfoy," James called after him, anger at Calypso's last words flickering in his eyes and driving him to have one more shot, "Tell her I might visit her in Azkaban, okay?"

The hex hit the middle of his back as he turned away, and he stumbled, a burning pain shooting through him where it had hit. He swore, and spun round, but Louis had got there first, and Danny Urquhart was on the ground, his legs having suddenly become incapable of holding him up. James' aim was a little better, and tentacles sprouted from Scorpius' face, even as James' skin exploded in a scarlet rash from Calypso's wand.

"Stop it!" a voice shouted, and James, through the sudden excruciating discomfort, saw that Fenella had returned, and several other people with her, spilling from the doors of the pub to see what all the noise was about.

"James. Sirius. Potter. You are. A fucking. _Prat,_" Fenella hissed into his ear, as she bent to haul him up.

"So are you giving me a detention?" he murmured with a grin, knowing that she never would. She replied by hitting him hard exactly where Scorpius' first hex had hit him in the back, and he gasped with pain.

"Ah! Fuck, what did the bastard use?"

He looked round suddenly at where Scorpius, tentacles still sprouting painfully from his face, was helping Calypso pull Danny more or less upright.

"James, if you _dare_ start anything again now, I _will_ give you detention, I swear I will!" exclaimed Fenella, seeing where his gaze had fallen. James shook his head.

"Don't worry, Fen. I just don't get what got into him."

"_What got into him_?" Fenella repeated incredulously, "James, you just _deliberately_ baited him…"

"I know. But the thing is, he _never_ fires the first hex," his eyes glittered suddenly, "I'm not sure what it was I said, but I just provoked Scorpus Malfoy into firing first. A victory, I think."

* * *

Lily breezed into the Common Room at the end of the afternoon looking tousled and cheerful. She glanced round for her friends. She couldn't see them, but her cousin was sitting by the fire. She wandered over to him.

"Where's Meri?" she asked. Hugo looked up from the Potions essay he was scowling over.

"What? Oh… I don't know."

Lily frowned.

"I thought she went to Hogsmeade with you."

"She did, but she came back early, before Jamie started the fight with Malfoy. She seemed a bit moody. PMS maybe. Lil, have you done Mundy's essay? Did you find anything about the properties of…?"

"Well, she isn't here, is she?" Lily interrupted, "And it isn't like Meri to be moody."

Hugo grinned.

"No, she's always merry," he looked expectantly at Lily, who groaned.

"Not funny, Hugo.

"He very rarely is," Rose appeared beside them and slid onto the sofa beside her brother, "I hear you went to Hogsmeade with Zeke, Lily. Just to warn you, Jamie's being all suspicious and older-brotherly. And he's a bit grumpy, because the effects of whatever jinx Zabini used on him this afternoon don't apparently disappear instantly."

Lily shrugged this off with a scowl.

"Well, he can forget it. There's no need for it; it's only a bit of fun. It's none of his business anyway. Have you seen Meri, Rosie?"

"Meri?" Rose let her eyes drift round the Common Room, "No, not recently…"

"Rose, what are the properties of coltsfoot? I can't find it anywhere," Hugo interrupted.

"No wonder; you're looking under 'c'," said Rose, looking over his shoulder, "Try 't'. The Latin name's _Tussilago Farfara_. Though why you're writing about _coltsfoot_ for an essay on potions to treat _burns_, I can't imagine."

"It _doesn't_ treat burns?" Hugo sounded panicked.

"Well, considering that the word '_tussilago_' means 'cough suppressant'…"

"Oh yeah, of course, how could I _not_ have realised?" Hugo muttered sarcastically, then his tone changed, "Rosie… help me. Please?"

Rose sighed.

"Give it here."

Lily left her cousins to finish Hugo's essay and drifted off in search of her friend. By the end of half an hour, she was beginning to worry.

"Still not found her?" Rufus paused beside her as she re-entered the Common Room after a fruitless search of the toilets.

She shook her head.

"No. Ru, you were there with them in Hogsmeade, weren't you? Are you sure she said she was coming up to the castle? Did she seem okay?"

Rufus thought about this.

"Well… she did leave a bit suddenly," he looked a little ashamed of himself, "We didn't take much notice of it, to be honest. But she definitely said she was heading back to school."

Lily bit her lip.

"I hope she's okay."

"D'you think we should tell someone?" Rufus asked worriedly.

Lily frowned. "I… don't know."

Of course Meri was okay. Meri was _always_ okay. She could look after herself. It was Lily who was always getting into silly situations, and Meri who always got her out of them. Meri did not do disappearing acts. Lily flopped down in an armchair, looking anxious. She was not used to having to worry about Meredith Hewitt.

"I think we should," Rufus said doubtfully, "It's not like Meri to disappear. Where would she go?"

But at that moment, the Portrait Hole opened and Meri herself came in, looking breathless and dishevelled. Her eyes searched the Common Room quickly and fell on Lily and Rufus. She made her way hurriedly over to them.

"Meri!" Lily sounded almost annoyed, "What happened to you? Where have you _been_?"

"Sorry, Lil. I went for a walk, that's all," she beamed brightly at her friend, although her eyes did not seem to be focussing properly, and a puzzled expression came over her face as she looked around the Common Room, "How come everyone's back already?"

"Because it's six o'clock in the evening?" Rufus suggested.

"Oh," Meri frowned, looking confused, "I must have lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" Lily echoed, "Where did you _go_?"

Meri's confusion deepened.

"I... I don't know."

She still seemed to be having trouble focussing on anything. Lily and Rufus exchanged startled glances.

"Meri..." Lily said cautiously, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Meri shook her head, suddenly looking frightened.

"I... I don't know," she whispered again, sinking down onto the nearest chair, "I don't know what's happening..."

"Okay," Lily took her friend's arm and spoke with a firmness she wasn't really feeling, "I think you should come to the hospital wing."


	6. And Aftermath

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot.**

**A/N: Thanks to arwenjanelilylyra, thenewkait, Sky-Azure Raindrops, Gaia v and elexa for the latest reviews. Love you guys! :-)**

**Hope you all had a good Christmas. As you can see, I'm having a very exciting and eventful New Year's Eve – 2 hours to go here, and I'm posting a fanfic chapter... But unfortunately social lives and flu don't really mix. Anyway, Happy New Year to the people who've already celebrated it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: ...And Aftermath**

_**In which James makes a discovery and develops suspicions, the Auror office investigate at Hogwarts, and Harry turns a blind eye...**_

James picked up his broomstick and was about to leave the dormitory when he suddenly stopped and frowned.

He hadn't left his diary on his bed.

Had he?

Surely he'd laid it out of sight under his bedside table, like he always did. Not that anybody would have been able to read it, even if they had found it. It was better protected than that. But nobody, not even Louis, knew that James kept a diary, and he'd rather keep it that way. It seemed like a bit of a girl's thing to do these days, but he couldn't break the habit somehow.

He scowled down at it, scratching absentmindedly at the remains of Zabini's jinx on his forearm. He was _sure_ he hadn't left it there. Had somebody been messing around with his things?

_Nobody_ touched James Potter's stuff! Most people wouldn't dare, so that narrowed the field a bit. Narrowed it, basically, to Louis, Fenella, the Carson twins, and James'siblings and other cousins. And maybe Sapphie Jordan, who wasn't very easily intimidated.

But he knew it hadn't been Louis, Fenella or the Carsons, because he had been in Hogsmeade with them all afternoon. And Lily had been there too, he knew _that_ for certain. She had apparently been providing a bit of a show with Zeke Lucas, behind the Hog's Head. He had a bone to pick with Lucas about that, but it could wait for now.

He thought about his other cousins. Hugo had been among the crowd to come pouring out of the Three Broomsticks to watch the fight, and hadn't returned to the castle until after James; James had seen him come into the Common Room with Magorian and a bunch of others. And it certainly wouldn't have been Molly, and Roxy was unlikely…

A new suspicion fell on him suddenly, and he knelt and pulled his trunk out from under his bed. It didn't _look_ as if had been tampered with, but… he was going to make sure. The Muggle lock wouldn't have kept anyone much beyond a First Year out. It was basically only there for show. To show that James Potter didn't want anyone opening his trunk, which ought to have been message enough.

He opened it, and his loss was immediately apparent. He hissed under his breath with the shock. That map was his most prized possession, after his broomstick.

Damn it, who knew about it? A nasty suspicion that most people did niggled at his brain. But none of them knew how to _use_ it. _Did_ they? No, they couldn't. He had only shown his four closest friends, and he trusted all of them not to have told anybody else.

But his brother or sister, or any of his cousins, could have found out from a similar source as he had himself. He had overheard a conversation between his father and Teddy; more of an argument, really, since Teddy had been claiming that, as Remus Lupin's son, he had just as great a claim to the map as Harry, and far more need of it, since he was still at Hogwarts. Harry had amusedly told his godson that he wouldn't know how to work it anyway, and Teddy had proved him wrong by announcing exactly how to work it, having found out from Uncle George. Harry had refused to give the map to Teddy anyway, but James had committed this useful knowledge to memory.

He was fairly sure that Teddy wouldn't have told any of the others (if he had told anyone that piece of information, it would have been James), but any of them could have wheedled it out of Uncle George. He though briefly again of Roxy, Uncle George's own daughter, but he was sure it wouldn't be her. The whole family found it hilarious that Uncle George, of all people, had produced such a quiet, shy daughter. It definitely wouldn't be her. And Molly might not be either quiet or shy, but she _was_ law-abiding. No, the two Fifth Years were out.

Of his list of suspects, that only left Rose, Al and Sapphie, who were probably the most likely three anyway. He wouldn't put it past them to be all in on it together.

He stood up and went slowly down the stairs. The Common Room was crowded. Rose was sitting on a sofa with Hugo, leaning over a parchment, presumably helping her brother with his homework. James' own little crowd had bagged another two sofas, and weren't looking at him; he had told them he was going for a quick fly before dinner. Al and Sapphie were nowhere to be seen; probably in a broom cupboard somewhere, he thought. James grinned slightly, despite everything, at the thought of his serious brother doing the deed in a cupboard. Maybe not.

Or maybe… the grin turned to a frown… maybe they were using _his_ map to find somewhere more spacious…

He stepped up to his own crew, and slid onto the sofa beside Annabel Carson. They broke off their conversation and looked at him in surprise.

"That was quick!" Fenella was beginning jokingly, when he interrupted.

"Someone's taken the map."

Their eyes widened, and they shuffled closer together. They did not need to ask which map. It had been their aide in all adventures since Third Year.

"Who, d'you reckon?" Adam asked in a low voice.

"Well...," said James slowly, "I'm thinking Rose or Al at the moment," and he outlined why. Fenella looked sceptical.

"_Al_? I don't think so, Jamie."

"Yeah, she's right mate," agreed Adam, "What would Al do with it? He never breaks rules any more."

James smirked.

"Yeah… but he does have a girlfriend these days. And have you noticed that they're nowhere to be seen…?"

Annabel gurgled with laughter.

"Are you serious, James? Al… using the map to find places to have sex with Sapphie?"

"Yeah, I don't think his mind works like that, Jamie" Louis grinned, "I mean, d'you honestly think him and Sapphie have actually _had_ sex yet? However hard I try, I really can't imagine Albus in any sort of sexual situation…"

"So I should hope… he's your bloody cousin! Why are you even trying?" James punched his cousin in the arm, "Anyway," he went on with a grin, "Knowing Sapphie as well as I do, I think she'd be more than up for a bit of action in a secret passage… _and_ that she'll make sure things happen soon, if they haven't already…"

"James!" said Fenella, warningly. They were all well aware that Sapphie would rather forget that her brief history with James had ever happened. And really, Fenella thought, it had been _very_ brief. One night, in fact, unless there were things James wasn't telling them.

"Well, anyway," James went on hastily, "I reckon it's one or more of the three of them. Nobody else would dare go into my stuff."

Fenella rolled her eyes at this typical Jamie assumption, but said nothing. It was true that those three were probably the most likely, given that Lily and Hugo could apparently be ruled out.

Louis leaned forwards, a glint in his eye.

"So… what are we going to do about it?"

* * *

There had been a time, pre-Hogwarts, when James, Louis, Rose and Albus had been best friends and partners in crime. James and Rose had been the masterminds behind most of their escapades, and happy-go-lucky Louis always up for a bit of fun. Admittedly, Al had always been the conscience of the group, but he had found himself dragged along. They had been a foursome, who struck terror into the hearts of all adults when they were together.

They were still relatively close, but things had changed. Things had changed as soon as James and Louis had started Hogwarts, really. They had found their own friends, in Fenella Belby and the Carson twins, and hadn't wanted to share secrets with the two younger children. Then Rose and Al had started Hogwarts themselves, and had gone slightly separate ways, Rose teaming up with Sapphire Jordan, Helena Green and Emilia Brooke, and Al becoming best friends with Gareth Llewellyn.

The past relationship, though, meant that the four of them understood each other remarkably well. Which was something that James Potter had no qualms about exploiting mercilessly.

* * *

"Hey, Rosie."

James slid into the seat beside his cousin the day after the Hogsmeade visit and the map theft, and smiled winningly at her as he spoke. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you want?"

He looked injured.

"I only came to say hello to my favourite cousin."

"Mm hm," she looked even more suspicious, "I'm not doing your Charms homework for you."

"Actually, I've done my Charms homework," he said smugly, glancing over at the other side of the Common Room, where Fenella, Louis and the Carsons were still working. Rose's eyebrows shot up.

"Wow, so you actually finished ahead for once. I _am_ impressed, Jamie."

He ignored the sarcasm in her voice.

"So, Rosie…as you're so impressed with me, how do you fancy helping me with something…?"

"I knew it!" she broke in triumphantly.

"It's rude to interrupt," he said with dignity, "And actually, I thought this might prove as interesting for you as for me. But if you don't want to, that's okay. Sorry I asked…"

Wrong idea. He knew it as soon as he had said it. That sort of bait might work on some people, but not on Rose Weasley. However curious he had made her – and he watched her bite her lip and struggle not to ask him – she had recognised it as bait, and would now rather die than fall into the trap. So after an almost imperceptible inward struggle (probably most people wouldn't have realised that it was going on, but James knew her well) she looked casually down at the parchment she was writing on, as if bored by the conversation.

"That's okay," she said absently, "Why don't you ask Al to help? Looks like he's finished his homework too."

He scowled at her, but she was frowning innocently at her essay. Of course he wasn't going to ask Albus. Al had been fine until last year, when he was made a prefect, and suddenly started taking rules very seriously. Well, actually, he had always taken rules – and life in general – a bit too seriously for James' liking, but he had always been persuadable before. Maybe it was just that since he had been made a prefect, he had been less suggestible; less easily influenced by his older brother. More confident in his own judgement. Well, good for Al, James thought sourly, but it was very annoying.

His brother had his nose in a book as usual, although as Rose had noticed, it wasn't big or thick enough to be a school book. James watched as Sapphie Jordan approached him, leaned over the back of his chair and kissed his cheek. Albus looked up, his normally solemn expression breaking into a smile as he turned and spoke to her. James' frown deepened. It was a mystery that continually irritated him: How the hell had _Albus_ – scrawny, scruffy, overly serious and frankly _boring_ Albus – managed to get someone as hot (not to mention sparky and spirited) as Sapphie Jordan?

"How did he manage to catch _her_?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Rose had heard and looked up, amused.

"When she could have had you, you mean?"

"No!" James glowered, "What d'you mean, she _could have had me_? No, she bloody well couldn't! I don't fancy Sapphie!"

"No?" Rose glanced thoughtfully between him and the couple a few metres away.

"No!" James spluttered, "I mean, okay, she's pretty hot, and I wouldn't say no…"

"_Didn't,_ you mean, not _wouldn't_," Rose put in, and he glared at her.

"_But,_" he continued, as though he hadn't heard her, "I would never get into a serious relationship with her. I wouldn't get into a serious relationship with anyone; I wasn't made for settling down to be a one-woman man," Rose choked with laughter at this, but he talked over her, "And if I did, she'd be the last person I'd choose. No, I just meant… that her and Al are very different, that's all."

"Watch what you say, Jamie," Rose said wryly, "She is one of my best friends, remember. But I have to agree," she relented a little; she and James had always been on the same wavelength, "They are a bit of an unexpected couple. But then, Mum and Dad are very different too, and that seems to work."

"Um," James said in a non-committal way, and then continued, after a pause, "So, Rosie. I really was hoping you could help me out."

"What with?"

"Well, you know how you're so amazing at Potions…?"

"James, I'm not one of your Fan Club. Flattering me isn't going to help. Just tell me what you want, because I _was_ trying to work."

"I wasn't trying to flatter you," he protested, "You really are amazing at Potions. And I got a P at OWLS; I'm hopeless…"

"I'm not making you a love potion," she interrupted.

"Would you stop assuming you know what I'm going to say?" James sounded a little annoyed, "Anyway," he added with a smirk, "I don't need love potions."

She rolled her eyes.

"Jamie…"

"Okay, okay. I want to make Veritaserum."

"_What_?" she hissed, "James, that's _incredibly _complicated magic. And I'm pretty sure it's illegal to do it uncertified. What on earth do you want it for?"

"Since when have you cared about things being against the rules?"

"James, there's a big difference between breaking school rules and breaking laws. If we were caught, we'd be expelled, and our families would probably have to pay huge fines…"

He grinned wickedly at her.

"But you'll do it."

She frowned.

"No I won't," his grin faded and she went on, "Not unless you tell me what it's for. And maybe not then, if I don't like it."

"When did you grow a conscience?" he muttered, "Okay, fine. I'll tell you. I only want to plan a little prank on some Slytherins…"

* * *

Harry put down his quill at the knock on the door, and looked up as a face surrounded by red hair came round it. He grinned welcomingly at it.

"Harry," it said, "Got a minute?"

"As many minutes as you want to distract me for," Harry stretched his cramped fingers, "Bloody signatures."

Ron did not return his friend's smile as he came into the room.

"There's been another incident."

"Oh?" Harry looked alert, "What kind of incident?"

"Well," Ron looked at him, "First of all, nothing too serious has come of it, although it could have been nasty… But there's no lasting damage, thank Merlin. But you're not going to like it…"

"What?" Harry demanded, "What's happened, Ron?"

"Unauthorised persons trying to get into Hogwarts. Or apparently trying to get into Hogwarts," Ron stated simply.

"What?" Harry stared at him, his voice sharp with concern, "_Who_?"

"We don't know. They didn't manage it, obviously. Seems to have been a bit of a bungled attempt. But there was a student involved…"

"Involved? Involved how?" Harry had gone into full Auror mode, Ron noted with mild amusement.

"Well, she seems to have taken the long route back from Hogsmeade, by herself, and encountered the would-be trespassers in the woods. What exactly happened we don't know, because they seem to have performed some botched memory charm on her. She's going to be fine," he hastened to assure Harry, who looked horrified, knowing how serious a badly done memory charm could be, "She doesn't seem to have lost anything important. She just came back quite confused and not at all like herself. She's still very confused about what happened in the woods, but other than that, she's back to normal. They've taken her to St Mungo's to check her over, but she should be fine."

"Have you seen her?" Harry asked.

"Not personally; I put Andrews in charge of it. She knows what he's doing. She just got back."

"What's her name? Anyone we know?"

"Well… yes, actually. At least, I've never met her, but I think you know her, and we both know her mother. It's Meredith Hewitt."

"Good grief!" Harry exclaimed, "Has anyone told Lavender?"

"Of course," Ron nodded, "She's there now too. She wanted to be the one to investigate, but we suggested that she might be a bit close to the case. So she's there as the mother of the victim, not as an Auror. Although I daresay she'll want to be fairly involved."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. It had surprised them all when Lavender Brown had applied for the Auror training programme after redoing her final year at Hogwarts, but the war had changed a lot of people, and she had quickly proved her worth. Now Lavender Hewitt, she was one of the Senior Aurors in the department. Her input would be valuable.

"What exactly happened?" Harry asked, "And when?"

"It was yesterday afternoon," Ron replied, "I'm not sure exactly what time. Andrews has sent Jefferson up to Hogwarts to talk to the staff and the students who were with Meri yesterday. She's quite confused about it all herself, so we'll have a clearer picture once he's got a few other accounts of it. As I say, she was walking back from Hogsmeade. Last thing she remembers clearly is leaving the Three Broomsticks. Then apparently everything's a blur, until she found herself outside the school gates. She came into the school, thinking she was back ahead of everybody, and found that she'd been gone for hours.

"Nothing else seems to have been done to her, though. Physically, she's fine, according to the people at St Mungo's. She was very confused when she got back to the school though, and she says that Lily took her to the Hospital Wing. They realised that something serious was the matter and transferred her to St Mungo's this morning. It took the Healers some time to be sure that it really was a memory charm job, and they contacted us a couple of hours ago. You were in the meeting with the Minister at the time, or you'd have heard about it straight away."

Harry nodded, taking all this in.

"Who was the last to see her, before this happened?"

"Well, we can't be certain, because she doesn't remember anything after she left the pub. You would have thought people would have seen her walking through Hogsmeade, but we'll have to wait for the results of Jefferson's investigations at the school before we know. The last people she remembers speaking to, though, are a bunch of other Fourth Years in the Three Broomsticks. Including Hugo but not, apparently, Lily."

"Oh," Harry frowned, "Where was Lily?"

"I don't know. Jefferson's speaking to all the kids involved. I imagine he'll find out."

* * *

Derek Jefferson returned some time later with handfuls of interviews written on pieces of parchment. He was a conscientious interviewer, and the statements he had gathered were comprehensive, if a little difficult to construct a coherent story from, given that different bits had come from several different students, none of whom had been witness to more than a part of the afternoon's events. Harry and Ron went through them together.

"Right," said Harry, "I'm beginning to get this straight. According to all this, at 1.15 pm or thereabouts – nobody seems to be sure of the exact time – Meredith Hewitt entered the Three Broomsticks in the company of Hugo Weasley, Ninian Penhallow, Rufus Magorian, Claire Baynard and Freya Robbins. They were seen by pub staff and several other students. She stayed for around twenty minutes. Up to that point, all the others say she was acting entirely normally," he looked up from the parchment he was looking at, "Was it normal for her to go to Hogsmeade with all that crowd? I would have expected her to be with Lily, to be honest."

"None of them suggest that it was that unusual," Ron pointed out, "They're all friends."

"Hm," Harry returned to the reports, "So…after they'd been in the pub about twenty minutes, Meredith suddenly stood up and announced her intention to return to school, as she had work to do. All the others agree that she wasn't behaving quite normally at that point. Hugo suggests PMS in his statement..." Ron choked at his son's lack of tact, and Harry grinned and went on, "Meredith herself says that she was fine at this point; her memories are perfectly clear. She just wasn't in a particularly good mood, and decided to return to the castle. Everyone else says that it's very out of character for Meri to be in a bad mood, which I'd tend to agree with…"

"Maybe Hugo was right," said Ron, with a grin, "Anyway, so she left the pub, seen by several other students. That was some time before 1.45."

"How do we know that?" Harry scanned the statements, and Ron picked up the relevant ones.

"Because at about 1.45, there was an incident immediately outside the pub," he told Harry, "One of the waitresses in the pub gave us the time, and Fenella Belby, the Head Girl, confirms it."

"What kind of incident?" Harry demanded.

Ron appeared to be studying the statements in detail.

"Well..." he said slowly, "Hugo calls it here 'a bloody good fight.' Fenella Belby calls it 'a stupid squabble.'"

"It was Jamie, wasn't it?" Harry said, in resigned tones.

"Er… yes. 'Fraid so. And Louis. And Scorpius Malfoy, and a young woman named Calypso Zabini – daughter of our old mate Blaise, I believe – and a boy called Dannicus Urquhart. However, it doesn't seem to be particularly relevant, except in confirming the time Meredith left the pub, because she'd gone by the time it started."

"I knew it. Jamie's never far away from Fenella Belby, and if there's a fight in the vicinity, he's bound to be in it. Never mind. If it's irrelevant, I'm going to ignore it. And I'm certainly not going to mention it to Ginny."

Ron chuckled.

"Probably best, mate. Might not go out of my way to tell Fleur about it either."

"All right," Harry went on, "So then we have several students here who think they remember seeing her walking up Hogsmeade High Street. And then… nothing."

"Nothing," confirmed Ron, "Except that Meredith has one clear memory of standing behind a tree and hearing a man's voice say 'So we go in at ten o'clock, and skirt the edge of the Forbidden Forest…' Other than that, all she has is the vague impression that she stumbled upon several people, and that they were planning to break into the school, but no specifics, which is going to make it tricky to prove if we ever catch anyone. Then she turns up at the school gate, and wanders inside and up to the Gryffindor Common Room, where she discovers that everyone's got back before her, including Lily. Oh… er… I've just found the bit that tells us where Lily was, if it's of any interest…"

"Oh?" Harry said, curiously.

"Hm. She was with a boy called Zeke Lucas."

"Oh," Harry rubbed a hand tiredly across his forehead, "I'm going to have to ignore that as well, aren't I? I don't think it's really fair when your job forces you to investigate the details of your teenage children's lives. I wonder if they realised that we'd inevitably be reading these things."

Ron laughed.

"My two seem remarkably innocent, for once. Rosie was apparently nowhere near the whole thing. But anyway, that's it. All we've got, apart from that odd little coincidence…"

"Yes. More than a 'little' coincidence, I'd say. The traces are identical?"

"Identical," Ron confirmed, "There's no doubt about it. The wand that performed this spell, and the wand that performed the Imperius Curse on young Fiona Murphy were the same wand."

"And not Astoria Malfoy's wand."

"No. Not Astoria Malfoy's wand. But I don't think that they can have been cast by the same hand, you know."

"No, it doesn't look like it," Harry agreed, "That Imperius Curse was a neat little spell by all accounts. Whereas this…"

"Was a very amateur effort," Ron finished, "So, somebody borrowed a wand. Seems like a conspiracy between more than one person."

"Hmm. So we have at least two people – more, if Meri's right about it being a group that she found – who have a motive both for Imperiusing a child in Lancashire, _and _breaking into Hogwarts. This is getting more and more bizarre."

"What's the betting," said Ron, slowly, "That having failed once, they'll try getting into Hogwarts again?"

"They might," agreed Harry, thoughtfully, "And you know, Hogwarts is pretty well protected. But it's protected entirely for the purposes of keeping the _students safe_, not for catching the intruders. There are things we could do about that. Modifications we could make, so that if anyone did try get in, they wouldn't get out again in a hurry. And you know, I wouldn't mind having a go at working out what exactly they want in Hogwarts. All this may mean another trip up there..."

A grin began to spread across Ron's face.

"Thought you didn't do field stuff any more?" he asked.

Harry smiled.

"I'm bored of sitting behind a desk. I want to do something. I don't have time immediately, and we should wait and see what they can get from Meri, anyway. But…"

"You know something, Harry?" said Ron, "I reckon you're enjoying yourself."

**

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If you're reading, please review (even if you don't like it, I'd like to know why). I'm recovering from horrible flu, and some nice reviews would cheer me up :-)


	7. Bad News

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot.**

**Guys, guys, guys. You need to learn patience. Well, not all of you, only those who are also reading my story Owl Post as well as this, and want to know all the answers RIGHT NOW (for those who don't know yet, Owl Post is a companion piece to this, and has lots of mysteries in it that I keep telling everyone will be answered in this fic). Did JK Rowling reveal every plot turn in the first few chapters? Or even in the first book? No, she did not. You will know everything (well, most things) by the end. (Don't worry. I love your impatience really. It means I'm doing something right.)**

**To the many people who have commented: Yes, James is being an idiot at the moment. Anyone who has read any of my other stories will know that his heart is in the right place (If You Were Gay is a good place to go if you want a quick example of Jamie's better side, as it's a oneshot). But he's a good-looking, popular 17-year-old with a famous name. And while not all 17-year-old boys are idiots, quite a lot are. His deeper (and better) layers will show through during the course of this story, I promise. The patience comment comes in again here. This story is going to be fairly long. We're only just getting started.**

**Thank you for all the well-wishing. My flu is better, although apparently it was swine flu. Amazingly, I didn't hand it on to my 15 month old niece, who I spent Christmas with...**

**Also thank you to all reviewers: sherbetgirl, billyvmom, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, Essalinn, thenewkait, Gaia v, chiriko1117 and arwenjanelilylyra. Christmas is over, so it's back to virtual brownies for you all.**

****To those unfamiliar with the work of the British author Enid Blyton... I apologise. She wrote many books for children, mostly either frighteningly chauvinistic ones about groups of kids solving endless criminal cases for the useless police, or else ones about life in unrealistic boarding schools. It isn't really important that you know about her.

* * *

Chapter 7: Bad News

_**In which Hazel begins some detective work and pays an unsuccessful call, Scorpius receives a letter, the Gryffindors get a surprise visitor, Lily learns some secrets, and some old friends are on their way.**_

When Hazel Kitson had been little, she had been a fan of Enid Blyton books. Like her favourite child-detectives, she had kept notebooks with different 'cases' in, all neatly marked down with clues and suspects and observations. Unlike those remarkable fictional characters, though, she had never had much in the way of _real _cases, and so had had to rely on her imagination.

Except when it came to one thing: Hogwarts.

The school (which she imagined as being a little bit like Mallory Towers) had always fascinated her most of all the things Scorpius had told her, and it was one of the lingering regrets of her childhood that she could never get there; Scorpius had told her that a Muggle who looked at the castle would see only a crumbling ruin with a 'Danger – Keep Out' sign.

That didn't stop her wanting to know everything she could about it, and she had been delighted when, for her fourteenth birthday, Scorpius' present had been a copy of a book called _Hogwarts: A History_. She didn't like to think how much it had cost him, for it was a heavy hardback, but she had read it cover to cover. Several times.

It was a new edition, and it had a shiny coloured dust jacket with a picture of the castle on the front (clearly trying to appeal to a popular audience, although given the dry tone of it, she thought that was a losing battle). She had taken the dust jacket off, because she wasn't sure what her parents would do if they found the book and saw the little people moving around in front of the castle. She had not, however, thrown it away. It was in a shoebox under her bed, along with the fat reporter's notebook on the front of which, aged eleven, she had printed 'HOGWARTS,' and every letter Scorpius had ever written her (they had relied on letters until he had managed to make the BlackBerry work last year).

It was her Hogwarts investigation – the only real one she had ever had, until now, although she didn't go back to it very often. Also in the box were several OS maps of northern Scotland, which she had bought a few years ago with her pocket money. The notebook contained every scrap of information she had ever gathered about the school, determined to work out where it was. A couple of years ago, she had given it up as impossible, and the box was gathering dust.

Now she had a new real investigation, but it wasn't unrelated to the old one. Hazel had gone off Enid Blyton as she grew up (she had got increasingly frustrated by the fact that whenever the really exciting bits happened, the girls were left at home to be out of the danger) but only to move onto Sherlock Holmes. Detective work still fascinated her, and she was determined to get to the bottom of this.

Scorpius had been unhelpful. He had claimed to know nothing (she wasn't sure she believed him), and had promised to ask his parents, but she had heard nothing more from him, and he had not even told her whether there _were_ spells that would have the effects she had described. The mystery had deepened when, two days after Fiona returned to school, Hazel had tried to talk to Charlotte Davies again.

Charlotte had stared at her in confusion.

"What are you on about, Haze?" she had wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement, "I don't remember showing you a video."

Hazel had stared at her, and then insisted on seeing the phone. The video had apparently disappeared. Charlotte clearly remembered nothing of the whole incident, and Hazel had not pushed it. She thought she knew what must have happened. She had told Scorpius; Scorpius had asked his parents about it, and his parents must have told their authorities, who had promptly dealt with it.

That didn't explain why she still remembered it herself.

She wrote again to Scorpius, telling him about this new development, but she was still waiting for a reply. Sometimes he took a while to answer, but it was bothering her so much that she didn't feel like waiting.

Instead, she decided to go back to some of the methods she had fantasised about as a child, and do her own investigation. So she headed for the Malfoys' house.

She knew Scorpius' parents fairly well. His mother, she considered a friend – Hazel had first met Astoria when she used to bring six-year-old Scorpius and baby Issie down to the playground directly behind Hazel's house, and the two older children had hit it off. Mr Malfoy (he wasn't the sort of man you could call by his first name, as she did with the rest of her friends' parents) was more distant, but had always been polite. She knew he wasn't exactly approving of his son's friendship with her, but he had never actively objected.

The main snag would be that they didn't know she knew about the whole magic thing. She was going to have to be very subtle about it...

In the end, none of her carefully prepared leading questions were needed. She rang the doorbell (she knew, because Scorpius had told her, that it was not really powered by electricity) but nobody answered. Disheartened, she stepped back and looked up at the house. Funny, she'd have expected Astoria to be in. She didn't get out very much; the pregnancy had been making her ill and she didn't have much energy. And there was an odd feel to the house; Hazel didn't know what it was, but she felt as thought something had happened; as though people had left in a hurry. That had to be her imagination of course, but still...

She thought again of Astoria's pregnancy. She wasn't due for a month yet, but... a sudden worry gnawed at the edge of her mind, and it didn't go away as she gave up and made her way slowly back down the road.

Back at her own house, she went up to her room and, on a sudden impulse, pulled out the old shoebox from underneath her bed. She stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, then lifted the lid and picked up the dust jacket, looking at the picture, with its grand castle against a blue sky - unusually blue for Scotland - and the trees just turning to their autumn colours, and kids in long robes wandering about on the drive. The world of magic. She knew that it was there; that it existed alongside her unknown, unseen and unsuspected by most.

But something funny was going on in it, and it was making her uneasy. She was a Muggle - she had always hated that word, although she knew that Scorpius never meant it offensively - and she was excluded from that world. But Hazel Kitson did not like not knowing what was going on, and she did not like feeling uneasy. Excluded or not, she would find out what was happening, and if Scorpius would not tell her, she would do it herself.

* * *

The owl dropped a letter on Scorpius' plate and he frowned and picked it up. It was in his father's writing and he wondered if it was finally a reply to his tentative questions about the Imperiused Muggle girl.

He scanned over the parchment. It was brief and to the point; his father's letters always were, but this one even more so. Scorpius went even paler than usual and glanced up to find Calypso's curious eyes on him.

"Scorpius? Are you okay?"

He nodded, then changed his mind and shook his head.

"Family stuff, Cal. I need to see Is."

* * *

"Don't look now," Sapphie Jordan observed as she sat between Albus and Rose, "But we've got a visitor."

Everybody around her looked up, and several faces darkened into scowls.

"What the hell?" James said, fairly loudly.

The Gryffindor table watched, open-mouthed, as the Slytherin prefect walked up to them, utterly ignoring their black looks, and stopped by his sister, who had frozen with a spoon half way to her mouth, gaping up at him.

"Scorp?" she said faintly. Alice and Jake, on one side of her, were looking decidedly uncomfortable. They usually contrived to forget that Iseult's beloved brother was a Slytherin.

Lily Potter, who happened to be sitting on the other side of Iseult, had been so deeply engrossed in checking her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay that she had several times put an empty spoon into her mouth (much to the amusement of Hugo and Rufus, sitting opposite). Now, at Issie's voice, she looked up, frowning slightly and not really seeing the people around her, and glanced at the little girl and the boy standing beside her, registering only that somebody was standing up where there was no room to sit down.

"Sorry," she said vaguely, "Did you want to sit down?"

And she shifted up the bench to let him in, already going back to her essay. Meri gazed at her friend in amusement, as others around the table looked outraged.

"Lily!" Hugo hissed. His cousin glanced up in surprise at her name.

"Hmm?"

Hugo said nothing, but turned and looked pointedly at the boy now sitting beside her, who was muttering urgently to his little sister.

Lily followed Hugo's eyes, noticing who Scorpius was for the first time.

"Oh." She glanced up the table to where James and Rose were glaring at her. She looked a little annoyed.

"What? Isn't he allowed to talk to her? He's her brother!"

"He's a _Slytherin_!" burst out Hugo, sounding remarkably like his father.

"And he's sitting at _our_ table," Rufus pointed out.

"_So_?" Lily returned pointedly to her essay, making her meaning clear: 'That was a rhetorical question and this conversation is over.'

The boys looked at each other in despair, but Meri took up the cudgels.

"She's quite right. He has every right to come and talk to his sister," she hissed, leaning across the table to them, "And you're being _rude_. He's right there; he can hear you!"

Hugo looked incredulously at her.

"Mer, there's a _Slytherin_ at the _Gryffindor_ table…"

"Oh, so there is, I'd never have noticed," Lily had apparently been paying attention after all, and looked up with the uncharacteristically sharp expression that they normally only saw when she was on the Quidditch pitch, "But now that you've pointed it out _twice_, I see what you mean. There _is_ a Slytherin at the Gryffindor table. You're quite right, well done."

Hugo gaped at her. Rose did sarcasm. You expected it from her, especially if you were her little brother. Lily, on the other hand, did unthinking honesty and straight talking, and he wasn't sure how to respond to her when she talked like Rose.

He got no chance to reply though, because James had arrived behind him and was looking challengingly across the table at his enemy.

"Hoi, Malfoy!" he said loudly. Scorpius looked up, as if realising where he was for the first time.

"Get lost, did you?" James demanded with a smirk, "Your table's over _there_, Malfoy. Why are you sitting here?"

Scorpius' eyes narrowed and he looked as though he was going to snap back, but then he glanced at his little sister, who was looking white and stricken, and he seemed to deflate.

"Give it a break, Potter," he said quietly, and stood up, looking down at Issie, "Don't worry, Is, it'll be fine. I'll see you after school though. Usual place, okay?"

She nodded mutely, and Scorpius, with one last glare at James, slouched back off to the Slytherin table, where his own friends had been watching him in amazement.

* * *

Lily grabbed the Muggle Studies text book she had forgotten and rushed out of the dormitory again.

It was as she was passing the First Year room that she heard voices. And one of them was crying. She paused, unsure what to do. The door was half open and she glanced inside. Iseult Malfoy was sitting on the floor between two beds, her knees hugged to her chest, crying hard. Beside her, Alice Longbottom was patting her shoulder and trying to say soothing things.

"What's happened?" Lily, characteristically, did not bother with tact, but came into the room and looked at the younger girls with concern. A thought occurred to her suddenly.

"James hasn't said something again, has he?"

Alice's cheerful little face darkened at the reminder, but she shook her head and looked helplessly at her friend.

"Oh. Is this something to do with whatever Mal- your brother was telling you about this morning?" Lily guessed again.

Issie gave a choking sob.

"M… Mummy's ill… really _badly_ ill. She… she…" her voice gave out and she burst into tears again.

"Oh, Iseult, I'm sorry." Lily adored her mother and could only imagine how she would feel if anything happened to her. She sat down on the floor and put her arm around the little girl's skinny shoulders. Issie gave a howl at this display of kindness and leaned in to the older girl, burying her face in Lily's shoulder. At this, Lily put both arms around Iseult and hugged her tight, her instinct to comfort overcoming everything else.

"Hey, sshh," she said softly, stroking the little girl's hair. She didn't have that much experience with younger children; she and Hugo were the youngest of their extended family except for Lucy, and Lucy was a tough little thing who had never needed looking after. She wished she could think of something to say, but all she could do was provide a pair of big-sisterly arms. She looked over the sleek black head at Alice who was sitting mutely beside them, looking scared.

"What… what exactly's happened?" Lily asked softly. Alice looked worried, and placed a hand on Issie's shoulder.

"Is… Can I tell her?"

Issie nodded her head, her face still buried in Lily's robes.

"Her mum's had a baby," Alice said earnestly, "But… but something went wrong. And now her mum and the baby are both really ill. They're at St Mungo's. Her dad sent Scorpius a letter this morning. But they're not allowed to visit…"

Lily's hazel eyes widened, first in shock at the news, then in sympathy.

"Oh, Issie, that's terrible," in their preoccupation, none of them noticed that she had called Iseult 'Issie,' "I'm so sorry. But you know, the Healers at St Mungo's are really, really good at what they do. She's in the best place she could be. I'm sure they're doing everything they possibly can…"

Issie snuffled gently against her, not seeming entirely convinced, but not arguing.

"Issie," said Alice gently, after a pause, "We're going to be late for Potions."

And Lily was going to be late for Muggle Studies. What could she do? She couldn't leave them in this state.

"I… I'm not going to Potions," said Issie, sounding stuffy-nosed but defiant.

Alice looked helplessly at Lily, who had never felt less equal to a situation.

"That's probably a good idea," she said, with a firmness she didn't feel, "Alice, I think you should take Iseult to your dad, if he isn't teaching just now. In fact, even if he is. Then he can excuse you both from Potions. You ought to tell him about this anyway; he's your Head of House."

Alice nodded, looking relieved. Issie seemed reluctant, but her friend took her hand and pulled her gently, and she gave in and got to her feet, scrubbing at her red eyes.

"You'll be all right, won't you? Because I ought to go…" Lily said privately to Alice. Alice nodded.

"Dad's got a free period now. He'll be in his office."

* * *

Lily ran to Muggle Studies, but she was still late. Professor Heron looked sternly at her as she came in.

"Good of you to join us, Miss Potter," she said acerbically.

"Sorry Professor," Lily slid into a seat beside Freya Robbins, another Gryffindor.

"So I should hope. Don't let it happen again." And the Professor continued her lecture on the Muggle electoral system in Britain.

"What happened to you?" Freya whispered, "You were ahead of me, coming out of Defence."

"Left my book in the dorm," Lily muttered, "Had to go back for it."

Which was the absolute truth. She didn't see any reason to mention her encounter with the First Years. She would tell Meri later, but she wasn't close enough to Freya to trust her with secrets.

Half way through the lesson, there was a knock on the door, and the head of a Second Year Hufflepuff came round it.

"Yes?" Professor Heron snapped.

"Sorry Professor," the boy said, "But Professor Clearwater wants to see Lily Potter in her office, now please."

Every head in the room turned to Lily, who was puzzled. Professor Clearwater? She was the Head of Ravenclaw, and also the Deputy Headmistress. There was no reason for the Head of Ravenclaw to want to see a Gryffindor, and the Deputy Headmistress usually only sent for people who had seriously over-stepped the line. Lily was fairly law-abiding as a rule, and could think of nothing she had done to warrant this summons.

She rose gracefully.

"Sorry, Professor," she apologised to Professor Heron, who sniffed.

"Well, if Professor Clearwater wants to see you, you'd better go, I suppose. You can come and see me later and collect the work you'll have missed."

"Yes, Professor."

* * *

What a weird day, Lily thought, as she knocked on Professor Clearwater's door. It was about to get weirder.

When she was admitted, she blinked at the room in front of her. It was full of people. Neville - Professor Longbottom, as she knew him in school - was there, and so was Professor Sewell, a tall, handsome man whom Lily didn't really know because he taught Arithmancy, a subject she'd never taken. Professor Clearwater sat behind her desk, and Iseult Malfoy and Alice Longbottom were huddled together on a large armchair by the fire, sipping from steaming mugs. And Scorpius Malfoy was there too, standing behind his sister's chair, fair hair flopping into his grey eyes, which looked deeply unhappy.

Lily felt a sudden sinking in her stomach. Mrs Malfoy couldn't have died, could she…? No, why would they have sent for _her_? And Malfoy looked much more worried than grief-stricken.

"Ah, Miss Potter," Professor Clearwater spoke briskly, "Sorry to have taken you away from your lessons. I'm sure you're wondering what this is for. I understand that you spoke to Miss Malfoy and Miss Longbottom earlier, and that they told you certain things regarding Mrs Malfoy's condition. You sent them to Professor Longbottom, which was exceedingly sensible," Professor Clearwater sounded vaguely surprised, as though 'sensible' wasn't really what she'd have expected from Lily Potter, "Of course, it is necessary that the school is told about this sort of thing, and that the Headmaster and I, as well as the respective Heads of the Houses involved, are made aware of what is going on," she sent a slightly disapproving frown at Malfoy, who stared fixedly at the floor, but she did not seem particularly angry that the information had come from Iseult and not from him. Lily suddenly remembered that Professor Sewell was Head of Slytherin as well as teaching Arithmancy, and the whole thing immediately made more sense.

"Now," said Professor Clearwater, who somehow managed to make everything she said sound like a well-rehearsed speech, "We understand from Mr Malfoy here that the whole affair is not to be made public quite yet, as I'm sure you will understand," she fixed Lily with a sharp glance, "Have you mentioned this to anybody else, Miss Potter?"

"No, Professor," said Lily honestly.

Scorpius was still looking at the ground, but she thought she saw his shoulders relax. He had probably been worried that she would have spread it all round Gryffindor, she thought with irritation.

"Good, good," said Professor Clearwater, "Well, Miss Potter, may I ask that, for now at least, you keep it to yourself? Clearly, it is an affair of an extremely private nature…"

"Of course, Professor. I won't tell anyone," Lily hesitated, then continued, "I'm sorry… I don't want to be nosy… but how _is_ Mrs Malfoy?"

Professor Clearwater looked a little uncertain for the first time.

"Ah…" she glanced at the little group by the fire, "Well, we won't know for certain until Mr Malfoy arrives; we're expecting him by floo very soon. But I am quite sure that the Healers at St Mungo's are doing their very best."

At that moment, the fire turned green and a man Lily recognised from the platform at Kings Cross stepped out. He was as fair as Scorpius, although his hairline was receding. Whenever Lily had seen him, he had always been immaculately turned out, but now he looked dishevelled, as though he had been sleeping in his clothes, and he had large shadows under his eyes. He retained his dignity, however, and looked around the room, fixing first Professor Longbottom, and then Lily, with looks of intense dislike.

"What are all these people doing here?" he asked coldly.

"Mr Malfoy," Professor Clearwater looked a little shocked, though whether at Draco Malfoy's appearance or by his rudeness, Lily was not sure. However, she didn't get a chance to go any further.

"Daddy!" Iseult squirmed out from the chair, dropped her mug (fortunately, Professor Longbottom's wand reflexes were fast enough to catch it before it spilt its contents all over Alice and the chair) and flung herself at the man.

"Iseult," he embraced her a little stiffly, and shot a look at Professor Longbottom that was both embarrassed and angry.

"Dad," she looked pleadingly up at him, "Dad, I'm sorry… Please don't be angry…"

He stared at her, uncomprehending.

"Sorry? Sorry for what? Why should I be angry? What have you done?"

Her dark blue eyes grew wide.

"Because… because I'm in _Gryffindor_," she whispered.

Draco Malfoy passed a hand in front of his eyes and Lily felt sorry for him. Whatever he felt about his daughter's house, he had more important things to worry about just now. But it was obviously a pretty important issue for Iseult.

Again, he cast that angry-embarrassed look around the room. Lily guessed that he wasn't the sort of person who liked to have family affairs made public in this way.

"Issie," he said at last, then hesitated, "Are you happy in Gryffindor?" he said at last. She looked at him a little fearfully, as though afraid she might give the wrong answer. Then she nodded. His mouth twitched into the semblance of a smile.

"Well… it certainly isn't what we would have chosen for you. But if you do well in Gryffindor, Iseult, then you will live up to the name of Malfoy, just as well as if you'd been in Slytherin."

Scorpius made a noise that could have been a snort, but could have been a cough. Draco looked as though he might have been going to say more, but glanced up, realised that the Heads of both respective houses were present, and thought better of it. Instead, his attention drawn by the sound, he looked at his son.

"Scorpius," he said.

"Hello, Dad. How's Mum?"

Pain flickered across Draco Malfoy's face.

"Not well," he said, heavily, "but stable. They say she'll be all right."

"What about the baby?" demanded Issie.

"Must we have this conversation in front of an audience?" Draco demanded, looking around, "Nobody's told me yet _why_ there are so many people here."

"Well, Mr Malfoy," Professor Clearwater said, "Professor Longbottom and Professor Sewell are here as the respective Heads of your children's houses. It was Professor Longbottom who informed me of this situation, and it was necessary, of course, that Professor Sewell also be informed that one of his students is undergoing an emotionally traumatic experience. Miss Longbottom here," Draco started and stared at Alice, obviously not having realised who she was, "was confided in by your daughter and has very kindly been accompanying her in this distressing time. Miss Potter," she looked at Lily, "also heard the story from your daughter, and sensibly advised her to inform Professor Longbottom. I have summoned her here to ask her, as I am sure you would wish, not to spread the story around the school. She has promised to abide by this."

Draco Malfoy looked at Lily with a slight sneer on his face, and looked as though he might have said something, but he didn't.

"If… if that's all, Professor, maybe I should go," Lily suggested. Professor Clearwater nodded.

"Yes, I think that would be best, Miss Potter. And you as well, Miss Longbottom, if you've finished your drink. I'm sure you don't want to miss more lessons than you have to."

Alice got up with a sigh.

"Come on, Lal," Lily put an arm round the little girl's shoulders.

"I'll see you later, Issie," Alice told her friend, "I hope everything's… okay."

Issie gave her a wobbly smile.

"Yeah, see you later. And…" she touched Lily timidly on the arm, "Thanks, Lily. For before. Sorry… I cried all over you."

Lily smiled down at her.

"That's okay. Don't worry about it."

As they walked back along the corridors, Alice said, "Lily. What _are_ we going to tell people? Everyone's going to ask where we've been."

Shit. They were, as well. Lily thought about it, frowning. Deviousness wasn't her strong point. She was a hopeless liar. Then she smiled.

"Personally," she said, "I'm going to tell the truth."

"Lily! We _can't_!"

"If anyone asks me," Lily went on, "I'm going to tell them I can't tell them, because Professor Clearwater told me not to. It probably won't stop them asking, but if that's what you stick to, they can't _force_ you to tell them."

Alice looked worried. "I'm not very good at keeping secrets."

"Neither am I," Lily smiled ruefully and thought she'd have to be very careful not to just blurt something out without thinking.

"And it doesn't feel right not telling Jake," Alice continued, "He's Issie's friend just as much as I am. And anyway," as a thought occurred to her, "He knows about it already. Issie told us both this morning. I hope he hasn't been telling people."

Lily hoped not too, but she thought it all too likely. Jake Nelson reminded her a little of James at the same age; mischievous, gregarious and a little too fond of the sound of his own voice. Actually, that still summed Jamie up pretty well.

She arrived at her Charms lesson to find her class waiting outside for the Fifth Years to come out.

"Lil!" Meri exclaimed, "What happened?"

Meri had been released from St Mungo's a few days ago and had returned to school, apparently none the worse for her ordeal, although she still had a disturbing blank in her memory, and refused to talk about it, except to Lily.

"I brought your things," added Freya, holding out Lily's bag.

"Thanks," said Lily briefly, "Can't tell you what it was. Clearwater told me not to."

The others stared at her in astonishment.

"But…" began Hugo. Meri elbowed him in the ribs and he shut up. Lily couldn't keep a secret to save her life. They'd get it out of her later.

* * *

"Harry!" Ginny burst into her husband's study, where he had been re-reading Ron's latest report on the case of the Muggle child in Mirlton.

They had discovered last week – from Astoria Malfoy, again – that one of the Muggle school kids had made a video of the incident, and had since been showing it to her friends. Mrs Malfoy had apparently heard some gossip about it in the local shop, and had helpfully informed the Auror office at once. Harry was nearly convinced that the Malfoys had nothing to do with the incident at all. Astoria had apparently been willing to help them as much as possible.

The situation seemed to have been contained. The Aurors had tracked down the girls involved, and wiped the video and their memories. Harry wasn't entirely happy with all this Memory Modification, but when something like this happened, it just couldn't be helped. He hoped nothing more was going to spring up.

He looked up from the report as his wife came into the room. Her hair was escaping from the clip it was in and she was in a great hurry, but she was beaming widely, so there was nothing to worry about, he knew that from the moment he saw her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, bewildered.

She waved a piece of parchment at him.

"This just came by owl! It's from Luna!"

He stared at her, not sure why that fact should have excited her so much. Since the time, more than ten years ago now, that Luna had disappeared into the Malaysian jungle and reappeared a year later, after everyone had assumed that she was dead, they had insisted that she write to them regularly. Of course, now that she had Rolf and the little boys, she would find disappearing acts more difficult, but she still wrote to them often, from whichever far flung part of of the world she and Rolf were currently in.

It was Alaska at the moment, Harry remembered. Right up in the north, doing some work on... well, he couldn't remember, but he remembered Luna telling him earnestly about it. They had been there two years now. The twins would be growing up...

"She's coming back!" Ginny announced happily, "We're actually going to see them all!"

Harry shook his head out of Auror business at this news.

"That's great!" he said enthusiastically, getting up from his desk, "When? And how long for?"

Ginny looked at the letter in her hand.

"Well, you know Luna. She's always a bit vague. But she says they'll be back next month. That's November," she looked at Harry with shining eyes, "They'll be back in time for Christmas! Oh, I can't wait to see Luna again! And according to this," she frowned slightly at the parchment, "Well, she seems to be saying that they're coming back for good. Rolf's got some post with MINA and Luna's talking about writing a book... Of course, this is Luna and Rolf, so who knows how long they'll really stay in the country? But she's asking me if I'd mind possibly looking for a house they could rent. They sold the last one, you know, before they took off to Alaska. And she wants to know what we're all doing for Christmas," Ginny looked up, "What _are_ we all doing for Christmas?"

Harry shrugged.

"I've no idea. Your parents are going to see Charlie in Romania, aren't they? So it won't be at the Burrow as usual. I suppose we could ask everyone here..."

"And Luna and Rolf could come too," Ginny agreed enthusiastically, "That's a lovely idea. I'm not sure the house is big enough if everyone comes, but we'll manage something. We ought to have Neville and Hannah too, if Luna's going to be here..."

Harry laughed.

"I suppose we ought. Should we invite the whole of the DA while we're about it? On second thoughts, the house might burst at the seams if we did that. And don't count your chickens before they're hatched. As you say, this is Luna and Rolf. Let's see if they actually turn up before we start making big plans. They might discover a rare Snow Hippogriff and decide they have to stay. But I suppose in the meantime, we should assume they _are_ coming, and start finding them somewhere to live. Otherwise we'll have all four of them camped out indefinitely in our spare room, and fond as I am of Luna, I'm not sure I could cope with the amount of chaos that would cause..."

* * *

**A/N: MINA: Magical International Naturalists' Association. You won't find it in canon, I invented it.**


	8. Plots and Plans

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot.**

**A/N: Are you excited? Because I certainly am. **

**Yes, that's right, House of Cards actually got updated! I'm so sorry it's been so long everyone – sometimes Real Life has to take priority, and it has been a bit stressful recently. And writer's block gets horribly in the way.**

**But now I'm back, and I'm worried I'll have lost all my readers. Please, if you're still reading, leave me a review to tell me!**

**This chapter is a bit all over the place. Bear with it.**

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* * *

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Chapter 8: Plots and Plans

_**In which Lily is proved right, a birthday party is planned, potion plots are furthered, Hazel makes some calculations, and a rumour starts...**_

"Malfoy!"

The annual Hallowe'en Feast was over, and Scorpius had been returning to his Common Room, but at the sound of his name he stopped and turned around to see Lily Potter running behind him. He scowled, and his scowl deepened as Xanthe Derrick, his fellow Sixth Year Slytherin and Quidditch team mate, looked round and giggled nastily.

"Go on then, Malfoy," Xanthe called, "Go and see your little Gryffindor girlfriend. Looks like she's pretty desperate to talk to you."

Scorpius ignored them and waited for Lily.

"What?" he growled, as she drew level with him, a little out of breath. Derrick and her friends were still standing nearby, smirking and obviously intending to listen. Lily looked coolly at them, and flicked her wand.

"_Muffliato_."

The girls looked irritated at the sudden buzzing noise that filled their ears, but there was nothing they could do, so they moved off, shooting dirty looks at the pair. Scorpius was staring at Lily in outrage.

"What the _hell_ are you playing at, Potter? Are you _trying _to make them think there's something going on between us?"

Lily looked scornfully at him.

"Of course not. I didn't know you cared so much what Derrick thought of you. But maybe you fancy her," if it had been anybody but Lily Potter, it would have been a mocking jeer, but Lily sounded as though she had just thought of a genuine possibility, "Sorry," she said, "But I had to talk to you. You can tell them it was just me being weird. How's your mum?"

"Better," Scorpius muttered, "And you could have found that out from my sister…"

"All right," Lily looked hurt, "I was only trying to be nice. Actually, I _did_ ask Issie. She said… she said the baby was still ill."

A flash of intense pain crossed Scorpius Malfoy's face before he brought the shutters down again.

"Yes," he said, abruptly, "Was that all?"

"No, actually," Lily looked a little abashed, and spoke quickly, "I was going to ask… I know you don't want anybody to know, so the answer's probably no, but I was just wondering if it would be okay for me to tell Meri about it all…?"

"Okay, if you must," he sighed.

"I'd only tell her," Lily rushed on, "and she's very good at keeping secrets, much better than me; she'd never tell anybody at all, I promise she wouldn't. Only she's my best friend and I can't keep secrets from her, and Issie's told Alice Longbottom and Jake Nelson… Wait. Did you say yes?"

He was looking at her in amusement.

"Yes. I said yes," he said, with exaggerated patience.

"But… but why?"

He thought about it.

"Well… if you know, I don't see any harm in Hewitt knowing. You say she's good at keeping secrets. I believe you. She seems like that type. Just don't go telling Hugo Weasley."

"I won't," she said slowly, "Thanks Malfoy. It's hard, keeping something secret from your best friend. She hasn't asked, since I told her Clearwater said I couldn't tell anybody. But she's being a bit off with me, and I know she minds that I haven't told her. Thanks."

"'S okay," he muttered, "You could have just told her anyway, but you waited to ask me. I appreciate that."

Lily smiled at him suddenly.

"I'm glad I was right," she said.

"What? Right about what?" he asked.

"Well, I told my dad and Uncle Ron you were okay. James shouted at me, so I'm glad I was right."

Scorpius stared at her, then laughed suddenly, surprising himself a little.

"Well, thanks, I suppose. You're not so bad yourself. For a Potter," he half went to move off, then hesitated, "Potter… look out for Issie, will you? She likes you; she said you were nice to her. She's not having the easiest time. The Slytherins in her year keep having a go at her, and I don't think all her Gryffindor classmates are exactly happy to have her there. Oh, and tell that brother of yours that if he upsets her again…"

"That I'll hex him into next week," Lily finished, grinning at him, "Although I don't think it'd scare him much. He's much better at hexes than me. But he isn't that bad, honestly he isn't. He'd never upset her deliberately. He felt really bad after what happened," Scorpius looked unconvinced, so she hurried on, "Anyway, I don't see why you didn't just give him a detention. You _are _a prefect, after all. You could have been putting him in detention all last year. Opportunities missed, Malfoy," she grinned at his gobsmacked face, "Anyway, hope the baby gets better. Really. See you around, Malfoy," and she turned on her heel and waltzed off up the corridor.

Scorpius stared after her in astonishment at the encounter, his mind dwelling on her last speech. Why hadn't it occurred to him that he could give Potter detentions? Well, because Potter was the year above him, and therefore had always been the dominant one. But he wasn't a prefect. Scorpius grinned slowly. Maybe Lily Potter wasn't quite as thick as he'd thought…

* * *

Mission accomplished, Lily headed back to her own Common Room, humming to herself. Of course, it was horrible about the Malfoys' little brother being ill, but it did seem like the news was getting better. She heard it regularly from Iseult. Issie and Scorpius had had two days out of school to go and visit him in St Mungo's, and the little girl had come back much more cheerful, and had secretly shown Lily a photograph of herself holding a little bundle with a scrunched-up face and a down of fine blonde hair.

Issie now seemed to think of Lily as a friend. Indeed, she appeared to have developed some sort of slight hero-worship, which confused Lily more than a bit; she'd never had that from a younger child before, but she didn't mind too much. Iseult was a nice little thing, so Lily made a point of being friendly to her. It annoyed James too, which was always a plus. James was irritating her at the moment, both with his blind prejudice, and his attitude to her seeing boys. He had had a proper go at Zeke after the Hogsmeade trip, and the other boy had backed off quite a long way from Lily as a result.

Lily wasn't _that_ interested in Zeke Lucas, but she liked him as a person, and James trying to interfere in her life was just annoying. Did he still think she was a baby? She was nearly fifteen, for Merlin's sake!

That thought brought her to a more pleasant one though, which was that it was almost her birthday. Her parents had promised her the newest Lightstrike broom, which had only come out in July, meaning that James didn't own it yet. Of course his birthday was in January, so he would probably get it then, but it would put her ahead for a couple of months anyway.

Their first game of the year, and her first on the team, was two days after her birthday (against Hufflepuff), so she hoped that Mum and Dad would find a way to get it here in time. She was sure they would; they were good like that. Slytherin had wiped the floor with Ravenclaw last week, Scorpius Malfoy catching the snitch, his game apparently unaffected by recent events. They had a good team, and Gryffindor would have to do well to beat them. A win against Hufflepuff would help, but Hufflepuff also had a good team this year.

He was a strange person, Malfoy, she mused. She didn't know what to make of him. She'd always got the impression he wasn't that popular with his housemates, except Urquhart and Zabini. And yet he was on the Quidditch team, and his whole house had cheered when he had got the snitch last week. There was no obvious reason for him to be unpopular; there was nothing weird about him. And he had just been very nice to her, and they had had a perfectly ordinary conversation. James hated him of course, but then she didn't exactly trust Jamie's judgement on anything.

He was sort of good-looking too, she thought, and then caught herself. Where had _that _thought come from? She _definitely_ wasn't interested in him like that. She was just acknowledging, in an abstract way, that he wasn't bad looking, she decided. It didn't mean anything.

She came into the common room to find Alice Longbottom dancing around in front of her.

"Lily, Lily, Lily! When's your birthday?"

Lily stared at the younger girl, her gaze flickering to the two other First Years who were, as usual, close beside Alice.

"Lal, you know when my birthday is... You've known me all your life."

"Yes, but which day is it?" Alice persisted, "I can't remember."

"It's the fourteenth," Lily said, bemused, "Why, what's so amazing about that?" she added, as Alice let out a squeak of excitement.

Issie had blushed red, although her eyes looked pleased.

"That's my birthday too," she said quietly, "I told Alice and Jake, and Alice said yours was some time around then too."

"I _thought_ it was the fourteenth," Alice said triumphantly, "You can have a joint party or something!"

Lily looked disconcerted.

"Lal... the fourteenth is a Monday. We've got lessons."

"We could have it on the Saturday!" Alice made puppy-dog eyes at the older girl, "Or in the evening."

Lily looked at Issie and Jake. Jake was grinning, obviously liking the idea of a party. Issie's face was a bit uncertain but also hopeful. When Lily looked at her, she smiled questioningly. Lily hated disappointing people.

"Well, okay..." she said, wondering what she was letting herself in for, and was rewarded by a pleased – if slightly self-conscious - beam from Issie and a hug from Alice.

She left the First Years to talk excitedly about birthdays and parties and wandered over to where Meri was frowning over a Potions essay due for the next day. Lily hadn't done it either, but she was putting it off. She sat down, still smiling ruefully. Meri looked up and raised her eyebrows.

"What's the matter?"

Lily giggled.

"I've just agreed to share a birthday party with Iseult Malfoy. Her birthday's the same day as mine." She would wait until they were somewhere a bit more private before bringing up what she had to tell Meri about the Malfoys.

Meri also laughed.

"You're sharing a birthday party with a kid who's turning twelve? What are we going to play, Musical Chairs?" she said good-naturedly.

Lily shrugged.

"Why not?" she said, grinning, "Musical Chairs is quite fun, and I haven't played for years..."

Meri laughed again, another thought occurring to her.

"So, a joint party for you and Iseult Malfoy. You know, I can't wait to hear what James says about this..."

* * *

The following day, James caught Rose just as she was leaving the Common Room.

"Any luck yet?" he muttered to her.

She looked coolly at him.

"You're making even less sense than usual. Any luck with what?"

James rolled his eyes.

"The potion, Rosie, what d'you think?"

She glanced around herself at the other students nearby.

"Is this the time and place to be having this conversation? And anyway, I'm in a hurry..."

"Well, it can wait, whatever it is," he said firmly, taking her arm and steering her away from the Portrait Hole, "You said you'd look into it. Have you?"

She sighed resignedly, removing her arm from his grasp.

"Yes. And you can be bloody grateful to me, Jamie, because I had to forge a note and get a book out of the Restricted Section..."

"And?" he interrupted impatiently, "What did you find? Can you do it?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know until I try. I don't know if I can get all the ingredients. I'll have to send away for some, so you can give me some money for that, if you really want this enough."

She looked curiously at him. This was a surprisingly elaborate plot for James. His pranks had always tended towards the crude and noisy, except when Fenella had a hand in them, but Rose couldn't imagine the Head Girl condoning this. Fenella had been in on all James' mischief-making once, but these days she had to take a more responsible view of the world.

"Does Fenella know about this?" Rose asked casually.

James grinned.

"What do you think?"

Rose narrowed her eyes.

"I'm going to guess not..."

"You're going to guess right," he confirmed, "Fen's up for things to a certain point. This would cross it."

Especially if Fenella knew what he really wanted it for, he thought to himself, feeling slightly guilty. Not for what he had planned, because his victims deserved it, or even for lying to Rose, which just amused him. But he didn't like hiding things from Fenella; they had always told each other everything.

"Well, anyway," Rose went on calmly, "I'll give it a go. But it won't be ready until after Christmas."

"After Christmas?" he stared at her in dismay, "But it's only just November!"

She shrugged again.

"I can't make it any faster than that. I have to get the ingredients, then you have to leave it to simmer for weeks. Your choice. D'you want me to do it, or not?"

He hesitated. Was it worth all this? He'd have to pay her for some of the ingredients too... Maybe there was an easier way...

"Yeah, let's go for it," he said, ignoring his doubts, "How much money d'you need?"

"I don't know yet," she told him, "I'll let you know."

And with that, she turned and left, before he could grab her again.

James turned thoughtfully away, and found himself face to face with Louis, who looked expectantly at him.

"Well?"

James nodded.

"She's doing it. But it won't be ready until after Christmas."

Louis frowned.

"After Christmas? Do we really want to wait that long? Wouldn't it be easier just to..."

"To what?" James looked challengingly at his cousin, "You have a better idea?," then, as Louis floundered, "Nah, this is the best way. Because this way, we not only get it back, we get revenge as well. And I can't wait to see Rose's face when she finds out what she really brewed Veriteserum for..."

Louis grinned despite himself at this thought.

"That will be pretty good," he acknowledged, then looked quizzically at the frown that was still on his friend's face, "What's the matter?"

"Just wishing we could tell Fen," James said abruptly, "I mean all I told her was that I was going to find out who had it... I didn't tell her _how_..."

Louis thought about this.

"Yeah... but if you think about it, if we told her what we were doing, she wouldn't _want_ to stop us... but she'd have to, because she's Head Girl. It would only stress her out. This way, she's happy. We're being good friends, not giving her the choice to make. She'd probably rather _not_ know!"

He grinned at James, who made a face.

"Well, I suppose so. I definitely don't want to tell her anyway. At least, not until it's all done and there's nothing she can do about it."

"By the way," Loius changed the subject, "I just spoke to Hugo. Have you heard about Lily's birthday party?"

James stared at him.

"What? Lily's having a party and she didn't tell me? Some sister she is...!"

"What, worried you got left off the invite list?" Louis grinned at him, "Well, you might have done. The person she's sharing it with isn't your biggest fan, I don't think..."

James simply looked confused.

"She's sharing it with someone? Who else has a birthday right now?"

"Well..." Louis said, with exaggerated patience, "Let's think about it. Who is new this year so we wouldn't know when her birthday is, has apparently recently developed a girl-crush on Lily, and has a good reason to dislike you, Jamie...?"

* * *

Hazel sometimes wished she hadn't taken Geography AS Level. Not that she didn't like the subject, but it seemed to have a greater quantity of coursework than any other subject, with the exception of Art. At least she hadn't done what her friend Matt had done, she often reassured herself, and taken Art _and_ Geography.

Today, however, she didn't need to do any reassuring of herself. She could not be happier that she had taken Geography. She let herself into her house, humming slightly to herself. Her father looked up from the stove, where he was cooking dinner, and raised his eyebrows at her.

"You look cheerful," he commented.

She grinned.

"Yeah. We're going on a field trip next term, for Geography. Oh, and I called in at the Malfoys' on the way home," she added carefully.

Her parents knew Scorpius, and liked him, but they only knew that he was away at boarding school somewhere. His family were considered a bit odd, the way they kept themselves to themselves and all had weird names. But Hazel's parents had never objected to her going round there, and they knew about the complications with the baby (Hazel had got a detailed email from Scorpius about it a couple of days after her failed visit to the house).

"Oh yes?" her dad looked at her, "And what makes you think we can afford to pay for you to go jetting off on a glorified holiday?" he grinned at her, making it clear that he was teasing, then looked serious, "How are they doing then? What's Scorpius' mum called again? Astrid, is it? Is she doing all right?"

"It's Astoria," Hazel corrected him, slinging her school bag onto a chair and taking her jacket off, "And yes. She's still at the hospital, but she doesn't really need to be for herself; it's because the baby still needs looking after. But I saw Scorpius' dad," who never seemed very comfortable around her, but he had been polite at least, "And I gave him the card I got for them. He didn't say much, but I think the baby's out of danger, just being monitored still.

"And the Geography trip won't cost much anyway," she went on, "We're not going abroad anywhere. We don't know where we are going, but it'll be somewhere in Britain."

And that, she thought, once she had escaped from him and was taking the stairs two at a time up towards her bedroom, was why she was so excited.

"We're going to be doing glaciation next term," Miss Anderson had said, "And there are quite a few glaciated landscapes around the British Isles. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm open to them..."

Someone had said the Lake District, which was practically on their doorstep, but they had been cried down. They had all been to the Lake District before, and the general desire had been for somewhere further afield.

Hazel had mentioned the Cairngorms. Miss Anderson had been enthusiastic, and the rest of the class had been open to the idea. Hazel had promised to have a look for somewhere they could all stay. She doubted that would be much of a problem. There were Youth Hostels and Backpacking places all over the Highlands.

She pulled out – for the second time recently, she realised, almost as if it was _meant_ – her Hogwarts shoebox. This time, she was interested in her notebook and the OS map. During her obsessed years, she had written down everything she could find in _Hogwarts: A History_, and every observation she could make from the picture on the front. The castle claimed to have been built in the 900s, but she suspected that there was little of the original building left; they certainly had not been building castles like that in northern Scotland in the Anglo-Saxon period. However, that was irrelevent. It was the physical features around it that she was interested in.

She turned her computer on and waited for it to warm up while she flicked through the notebook. There were all sorts of notes about the geography of the castle; the position of the forest and the lake... She knew that the castle would not appear on a map, and also that if she looked at it, she would only see it as a tumble-down ruin. But ruined buildings were usually marked on OS maps...

She came to a halt on a line in her notebook. _8 hours_, it said. The length of time Scorpius had once let it slip that it took to get from Kings Cross to Hogwarts. She didn't know how fast the train went, but from everything Scorpius had told her, it _was_ just a steam train, although a big one.

She opened Mozilla and typed a few phrases into Google, grinning as the results came up. Okay... so the Hogwarts Express was probably quite a fast steam train as they went, which meant it would travel at around 85 miles per hour. And with an 8 hour journey, ending somewhere in the central highlands... Hazel grabbed her calculator and did some quick multiplications, which she wrote down in the notebook. Then she flipped open her World Atlas at the map of the British Isles, fetched a ruler and started to measure.

It was starting to narrow down.

That mountain in the background of the picture behind the castle... She thought she knew what it was. It was the recognisable low flat shape of Am Faochagach. Hazel gave a brief thanks for the fact that she had been brought up in a family of mountaineers who enjoyed Munro Bagging. She wasn't into it herself, but she tended to recognise the higher mountains. They had once spent a holiday not far from there, and it had occurred to her then that she was probably somewhere near Scorpius, but that had been before she owned _Hogwarts: A History_, and so she had not seen the picture.

She looked the mountain up to confirm it (she had to have several goes before she got the spelling right), and found herself looking at pictures of a familiar outline. So, that put Hogwarts somewhere about... _there_... She took her pencil again, and drew a circle around the area she was interested in, excitement rising in her as she spotted a lochan on the edge of a forest that _could_ just be the Hogwarts Lake...

The she typed some more search terms into Google and it gave her a list of possible hostels in the vicinity. For a moment, she sat back and looked at the screen.

Could she do this? Would Scorp just be angry that she had tried to work it out? She could be completely wrong...

Hazel squared her jaw, and clicked the print button. Whether she was wrong or right about the exact location, she was going to the Cairngorms. She was going Hogwarts-hunting.

* * *

Xanthe Derrick might be a genius on the Quidditch pitch, but she was also a gossip. If she didn't know something, Dannicus Urquhart had said once, she would just make it up.

She also enjoyed making trouble, and she did not like Muffliato spells being cast on her.

It did not take her long to spread it around the Slytherin Common Room that Scorpius Malfoy and Lily Potter were having a secret fling.

Then, just to make sure, she bribed Desdemona Dimitar, a Fourth Year and her fellow Chaser, to write a note about the story, levitate it across the Transfiguration classroom towards Ariadne Nott one day, and 'accidentally' drop it in front of Hugo Weasley.

That accomplished, she felt that her job was more or less done, and she sat back to watch the drama unfold.

**A Munro is a Scottish mountain over 3000 feet high. There are 283 of them in the country, and Munro Bagging is the practice by mountaineers of trying to climb as many of these as possible. The real enthusiasts keep special Munro maps, on which they mark which ones they've done... Like Hazel, I come from a family of these crazy people without actually being one myself.**


	9. Rising Tension

**A/N: Well, here we are, the long promised return of House of Cards... I hope you've missed me, because I've missed you all. All I can say about my horribly long absence is that I'm truly sorry. My fanfiction muses have been lying dormant and I just haven't been able to find the headspace to wake them up - two new jobs, one of them slightly hectic, probably have a lot to do with it. I'm very very sorry to have gone so long without an update.  
**

**You've probably numbered this story among the dead and given up on me entirely... I really hope that at least a few of you still care enough to read it! I always worry when I come back to a story after a gap that I'm going to have no readers left. So prove me wrong, _please_! And if you read it, please drop me a line as a review, because otherwise I have no way of knowing you've read it, and it will make me sad...**

**I'm afraid that this isn't the longest, most action-packed chapter to return to, but we're building to some drama (the title says it all really) and it was going to get too long if I included the drama as well. So expect some more exciting stuff very soon. And there's a new viewpoint in this one, which will please the Albus Fans among you  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and a few OCs.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Rising Tension**

**_In which James is extremely annoyed, several people do some thinking, Lily accidentally reveals a secret, Albus gets a nasty surprise, and Hazel writes a letter..._**

The story that his sister apparently had something going on with Scorpius Malfoy had come as an unwelcome surprise to James Potter. He was both angry and outraged by the rumour, and was torn between punching Malfoy and going and shouting at Lily. It didn't help that Louis found the entire thing hilariously funny.

"Oh, come on!" the blonde boy said, when James refused to laugh, "You don't actually believe it, do you?"

James scowled darkly.

"You didn't hear her going on at the train station about how nice and gentlemanly he was. And she's been being very friendly with him this year… Anyway, Hugo said he got it from those girls in his year, Nott and Dimitar. Apparently, everyone in Slytherin knows about it..."

Louis rolled his eyes.

"And you honestly believe a word Nott and Dimitar say? She hasn't been being any friendlier to him than usual. Just because she's not actually _un_friendly doesn't mean anything. This is Lily. She's friendly with everyone she doesn't actually hate. It doesn't mean she's in love with them. It's a stupid rumour, that's all, and I bet it's pissing Malfoy off even more than it is you."

This thought cheered James up slightly, although Louis' subsequent reminder that anyway, Lily had been seeing Zeke Lucas, was less of a success, and James' brows came down again.

"Well, who would you rather?" Louis demanded, losing patience, "Zeke or Malfoy?"

"Neither," James grumbled.

He did not hesitate, either, in communicating this opinion to Lily. Anyone who witnessed the ensuing scene would have been quickly disabused of any idea they might have had that Lily Potter did not possess a temper. James was told in no uncertain terms that first of all, there was nothing at all going on between Lily and Scorpius and that he should have better things to do than listen to Hugo, and secondly, that even if there had been anything going on, it would have been none of James' business at all.

With that, James had to be, if not content, then at least semi-satisfied, although he continued to watch his sister with suspicion.

* * *

Lily herself had been somewhat dismayed by the rumours. She generally ignored people talking about her (as Harry Potter's daughter, she had got used to it at an early age), but this story, she found increasingly difficult to pretend not to hear. For one thing, there were James, Louis and Hugo. James was being all angry and overreacting to it, while Louis lost no chance to tease her about it, and Hugo's reaction had been almost as bad as James'.

Then there was Iseult. Lily had got quite used to being the person Issie came to for help with homework, or for advice over some issue, or to confide her worries about her baby brother. Having rumours about herself and Iseult's brother was more than a little bit embarrassing. Lily didn't know what Issie's opinion of the story was, but she was fairly sure that the First Year had to have heard it – it was doing the rounds of the entire school. Something told her vaguely that Issie might not actually mind too much if Lily and Scorpius did actually got together – not that there was the remotest possibility of that – and Lily remembered, with a bit of a grimace, the excited response of a certain other small girl to the news that the young man she adored like a brother was seeing her cousin. Anyway, having Iseult always around meant that she was constantly reminded of Malfoy, so it was very difficult to ignore the whispers.

Then there was Malfoy himself. Lily couldn't help a slight twinge of guilt, because the rumours must be annoying him just as much as, if not more than, her, and it was her fault. She was fairly certain that it had originally come from Xanthe Derrick and must therefore be the result of their brief conversation in the corridors. Which was ridiculous, as Lily said impatiently to Meri for what felt like the hundredth time, because all she'd done was _talk_ to him, and since when did talking to a guy mean there was something going on between you? Of course, there was also the Muffliato spell Lily had cast, which was mainly what was causing the pangs of guilt, because it was really that, Lily knew, that had started the whole thing.

And the problem was that Lily had found that she actually quite liked Scorpius Malfoy. She'd never disliked him, not like James had, but now she found herself wishing she could actually get to know him better, especially given her strange kind of friendship with his sister. That was impossible now, and it irritated her. He was avoiding her, she thought, and she couldn't blame him. But she wished she could have the chance to apologise.

* * *

Albus sat in the common room, playing cards with himself and feeling vaguely bored. Gareth Llewellyn, his closest friend, sat opposite him, concentrating hard on an Arithmancy exercise. Albus himself had finished all his homework and had nothing much left to do.

Sapphie had gone off with Emilia to practice Quidditch, and he had no idea where Rose was. She'd been being a bit mysterious recently and he had found her whispering in a corner with James on more than one occasion. These days, Albus tended to pretend not to notice when something like that happened. It was perfectly obvious that they were up to something, and it was almost certainly something that, as a prefect, he should put a stop to. But when it came to his relatives – especially James and Rose – it was safer just not to see. He'd given up worrying that that made him a hypocrite. At least Sapphie didn't seem to be involved, despite being Rose's best friend, and like Rose, far more of a troublemaker than Albus had ever been.

Sometimes, Albus still couldn't quite believe that Sapphie was now his girlfriend. They'd always been friends; quite apart from the fact that she was Rose's friend, and he and Rose had always been close (even though, temperamentally, Rose had more in common with James), he had known Sapphie for years. Her father was his Uncle George's best friend, and her mother had been a member of Dumbledore's Army, so they were friends of the family, and the Jordans lived in Diagon Alley, which meant that Sapphie and her younger brother had always been in and out of Uncle George's shop whenever the Potters visited.

But although Albus had counted her as a friend, and they had always got along well, Sapphie had been bubbly and lively and mischievous, and never sat still, while Albus had been quiet and slightly too serious and had preferred reading a book to riding a broom. It had always been Sapphie and James who wanted to play Quidditch, and argued fiercely over different teams, and the merits of various brooms, while Albus and Rose (who suffered from vertigo and hated flying, although she would never admit it) had preferred other pursuits.

Then they had all started Hogwarts together, and there were only four girls in their year to eight boys, so the girls, Sapphie, Rose, Emilia and Helena Green (Al's fellow Sixth Year Prefect), ended up sticking together, while Al made friends with Gareth, who, while less shy than Albus, also preferred talking about books rather than Quidditch and pranks.

And Albus had always, if he was honest, liked to look at Sapphie from afar. She was so bright and spirited and vivacious and alive that his eyes were always drawn to her, even when he was too young for it to be anything but childish admiration. Somewhere around Third Year, that had changed and he'd realised she was a girl, but it had always just been a pleasant thought, not a hope. She was so far beyond him, so much more interesting than he was; there had been no way a girl like Sapphie Jordan would ever be interested in quiet Al Potter, even if they _did_ both enjoy reading Muggle fantasy novels, and playing cards.

He had half expected her to end up with James, because just about every girl in the school seemed to end up with James at some point, and his brother was loud and funny and outgoing and good-looking; everything Albus wasn't. And he had known then, aged fourteen, that if she did, he would be horribly and sickeningly jealous; far more so than if she went out with some random boy, because Albus had always been slightly jealous of James. James was the oldest and the first, and the one that everyone noticed, and all Albus had ever been able to do was follow in his brother's shadow.

He'd grown out of that now. He was his own person, and he didn't have to be like James, because he was good at his own things and had his own life and his own ambitions, which were very different from James' (Al didn't think James had many ambitions at all). He was also old enough to know that he didn't actually _want_ to be like James – he was happier being Albus. But there was still enough of the little boy who'd been completely overshadowed by his boisterous older brother for Albus to know that Sapphie-and-James was something he couldn't stand.

But it wasn't Sapphie-and-James. He had no idea how it had happened really, but somehow it had become Sapphie-and-Al, and Sapphie was everything that was bright and wonderful in the world. He'd asked her out last year, in a fit of 'what the hell,' and been so shocked when she said yes that his first reaction had been 'Seriously? _Why_?'. And she had giggled and said '_That's_ why,' and kissed him, and life had suddenly become a fairytale. James didn't matter any more. Albus was happy being Albus, because Albus had Sapphie.

There was the small fact that neither of them had actually told their parents yet, but he didn't mind that too much. It would happen in the end. It had all been too new before the summer; it was something for the two of them, not for anyone else, even though he'd practically had to clamp Lily's mouth shut to stop her saying anything. He thought maybe he'd tell Mum and Dad at Christmas though – he was pretty sure they'd be pleased, because they liked Sapphie.

"Albus!" a slightly breathless voice spoke his name and he looked up to find his sister standing beside him, looking uncharacteristically harassed. Albus grinned sympathetically at her.

"Oh… hey. Are you okay? You look stressed… Has James been on at you again?"

Lily sighed and flopped onto the sofa beside him.

"Yes. But about something different. At least, sort of different. Some idiot told him I was having a party for my birthday…"

Albus looked surprised.

"_Are_ you having a party?"

Lily looked at him, slightly apologetically.

"Oh, you didn't know? Sorry… you're invited, obviously. But there's not much point in inviting people really, because we're having it here, so everyone in Gryffindor'll be here…"

"So what's the problem?" Albus enquired, "I'd have thought James would love the idea. You didn't decide to invite Scorpius Malfoy, did you?" He grinned teasingly at her. Albus had never been into believing stupid rumours – Lily said there was nothing going on and Lily couldn't lie to save her life, so he believed her. In his humble opinion, his brother was being a complete idiot about the whole thing.

Lily stuck her tongue out at him.

"No. Shut up. Although, his problem with it _is_ kind of linked to Malfoy… See, the thing is, Iseult's birthday's on the same day, and I kind of said we could have a joint party…"

She got no further before Albus started laughing.

"Seriously?" he grinned at her, "Oh, I bet Jamie loves that! What's he said?"

Lily sighed.

"He can piss off, honestly, Al. Issie's a nice kid – and what was I supposed to say? No, I won't share a party with you, because you know, your dad and my dad didn't like each other much, and my brother hates your brother. Talk about pathetic! He hasn't said much – he just keeps making little comments, and I see him watching me… Like he doesn't trust me or something!" Lily looked frustratedly at Albus, "And now he's trying to take over my party! Him and Louis want to bring a whole load of alcohol and stuff up from Hogsmeade, and I don't really mind that _too_ much, but it's just… He's talking like it's _his_ party, and I think he's going to spoil it – for Issie, as much as for me. Because he doesn't think she matters, because she's only twelve… Stop him, Al – please?" she begged.

"I get it, Lil…" Albus said, frowning slightly, "but how am I supposed to stop him? You know he doesn't listen to me…"

Lily looked at him in surprise.

"But he _does_!" she protested, "You're one of the only people he does listen to – you must have noticed!" she went on before Albus could dispute this astonishing idea, "Anyway, you're a prefect – he's got to listen to you."

Albus looked both resigned and amused at Lily's typical naivety.

"Lil, this is James. I don't think me being a prefect is going to do anything. If I try and play that card with him, he just laughs at me. For Merlin's sake – the Head Girl's one of his best friends! If _she_ can't make him behave sensibly, what chance have I got? But okay, I'll try," he added with a sigh, as she opened her mouth to argue, "Just because it's your birthday; and anyway, Jamie may be an idiot, but he's not cruel. I don't think he'd ruin the kid's party on purpose – not if someone pointed out to him what he was doing. Although you could do that as well as I could…"

"He definitely wouldn't listen to _me_," Lily said decisively, "He'd just think I was sticking up for the Malfoys again. But… you'll talk to him then?" she looked hopefully at him.

Albus sighed again.

"Yes, I suppose so, although I can't guarantee it'll do any good at all," he warned her, "And while I'm about it, I'll try reminding him that you can't lie to save your life, so that if you say there's nothing going on between you and Malfoy, then there probably isn't. Because like I say, it's your birthday…"

Lily beamed at him an impulsively reached out and squeezed his hand.

"Thanks, Al! I'm glad I've got a brother like you and not just one like James. I reckon Sapphie chose the right one of you."

And with one last grateful smile at him, she bounced up and headed off across the common room, her good spirits restored by his promise to help her, leaving Albus staring after her, his promise to talk to James forgotten in his shock at her last words.

He turned to look at Gareth, who had been half-pretending not to listen to the conversation between brother and sister, but whose mouth had fallen open in dismay at Lily's final words.

"Sapphie chose the right one?" Albus repeated, his voice cracking slightly with surprise and anxiety, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

* * *

Dear Scorp,

That's too bad about the rumours about you and Lily Potter. I'm not laughing right now or anything like that. Are you sure you don't fancy her just a little bit? You talk about her a lot… I hope her brother doesn't take it seriously and overreact or anything like that though. Not that he seems to need a reason to have a go at you.

Anyway, thanks for (finally) letting me know what's going on with poor little Fiona Murphy. Don't worry, I'm not really offended – I know you've had a lot going on. And Fiona's back at school now, but nobody seems to remember anything except that she's had a bad dose of flu. You still didn't say that much though, considering your mum actually saw it happen. Do you really not know any more than that? Well, maybe I can find out a bit from this end. I'm not sure how. I'm going to try Jason Dean – that Year Eight kid who was spreading the stories about it in the first place.

I hope your mum and little brother are doing okay, and they can bring him home soon. Let me know when they do, all right? I want to go round and visit them.

Oh, and I've got a surprise for you. My Geography class is coming to the Cairngorms on a field trip next term! Isn't it a coincidence? We're staying at a Youth Hostel in a village called Kilmary – is that anywhere near you?

Isn't it Issie's birthday round about now? Say Happy Birthday from me! I would send her a card, but I don't know how I'd get it to her, as I don't have an owl.

Love,

Hazel.

* * *

**A/N: I realise that even less happened in this chapter than I thought. I promise you a drama-filled chapter very soon. It's already written, so it should actually materialise.**


	10. Breaking Storms

**A/N: Well, it seems to have taken me several months to edit a chapter, but I'm slowly coming back to fanfiction again. Life is finally getting settled again, although about 300 miles away from where it was before. Full time work doesn't leave much time for writing, but I'm trying. I'm getting back into it gradually; I've been writing for a while without publishing anything, but now I'm publishing and hopefully soon I'll get back to reading again, and catch up on stories I was following and PMing friends (yes, that's a promise to those who haven't heard from me in ages).**

**Again, I really hope I have some readers left, and that you can still remember who everyone is and what's going on...**

* * *

Meri Hewitt sat on a sofa in the Common Room, people-watching. She wasn't in a particularly good mood, which made things difficult, since it was her best friend's birthday party, and she ought to be having fun. The real problem was that Lily was part of the reason she was in a bad mood, and it wasn't even her friend's fault.

The party had, of course, turned into a full-house affair. Meri suspected that Hugo was to blame; he'd overheard her and Lily talking about it and had got a bit overexcited and gone and told loads of people. He'd also told James and Louis, which was always a mistake. As a result, the Gryffindor Common Room was packed full, and there were garlands along the walls - courtesy of Lily's cousin Roxanne, who was good at decorating - and balloons that made loud (and often rude) noises whenever you touched them - courtesy of Hugo and Rufus.

It was starting to get late, and Meri had noticed Fenella Belby glancing at her watch and then over at the First and Second Years, who were still bouncing all over the place. Fenella wasn't a killjoy, but she did have some responsibilities as Head Girl. Meri knew that Albus, as a result of his conversation with Lily, had had a word with James (and it must have done some good, since James had so far behaved perfectly nicely), but knowing James and Louis, Meri seriously doubted that Albus would have been able to persuade them that alcohol wasn't a good idea. And if that was going to happen at any point, the kids really shouldn't be here.

Iseult Malfoy had really come out of her shell tonight, Meri thought, as she continued to watch the younger ones. The little girl had been even more subdued than usual for the last few weeks, and since Lily had told her the whole story, Meri knew why, but tonight it was as if a different girl had emerged. This Iseult was sharp and bubbly and confident and had a cheeky answer for everything.

Lily herself was standing near Meri, flirting unwittingly with Seb Graves, her Quidditch team mate. James was watching balefully from across the room, but was being restrained from interfering by Rose. Relations between Lily and James had been strained since Lily had blown up at him over the Zeke Lucas and Scorpius Malfoy affairs. James, although he had shouted back at her at the time, did seem to have got the message and was now satisfying himself with glaring from afar. Meri hoped that his restraint would last the night, or there might be no Common Room left by morning. It took a fair bit to arouse Lily's temper, but once it was ignited, it could be explosive. Most people weren't even aware that she _had_ a temper; Lily was known as the dreamy, easygoing one. Meri knew her well enough to know what lay underneath, but then so, presumably, did James. And while Lily had been annoyed about the rumours, which had appeared to originate with Hugo, she had been even more annoyed by her brother's interference.

Meri herself was feeling slightly overlooked, considering that she had been instrumental in organising the whole party. And she was sorry for Zeke too, who was watching Lily and Seb with a hurt expression on his face. Ever since her argument with James, Lily had been being obviously and slightly unnecessarily nice to Zeke, simply to make the point that her brother could not dictate her life. Meri knew that Lily wasn't even aware that this attempt to annoy James had been giving Zeke entirely the wrong message; but then, Lily was still refusing to believe that Zeke was remotely serious about it all. Anyway, she wasn't even deliberately flirting with Seb. By Lily's code, she was just being friendly. It was just that Lily's 'friendliness,' when it came to boys, involved lots of wide-eyed smiles and hair twirling.

And Zeke was really kind of sweet, Meri thought miserably to herself. It wasn't a thought she let herself have very often, but in quiet moments like this, it sometimes crept in. She knew he was in love with Lily; he had been for ages. She knew that with Lily for a best friend, boys would never notice her. It was one of those things she usually just accepted with resignation and slight amusement.

Sometimes, though, it sucked.

* * *

"Fucking little wanker," James muttered to himself, "He's lucky I'm not kicking him off the team…"

Rose rolled her eyes unsympathetically.

"For talking to her? Yeah, right, Jamie. Don't be ridiculous."

"They're not just talking!" James protested, "Look at them."

"Yes, yes," Rose said patronisingly, not even glancing in Lily and Seb's direction, "I'm looking. It's disgusting. Shouldn't be allowed in public. I mean – Merlin, did I just hear her laugh? Disgraceful!"

"Oh, shut up," James's scowl deepened, "I just don't like the way they all chase after her, okay? Like she's just any old girl…"

"As opposed to being _your_ sister?" Rose enquired, "Which obviously, by association, makes her some sort of celestial being, right? Oh, come on Jamie," she went on, her voice changing, "She's fourteen – she'll be fifteen on Monday! She's not a baby! If she wants to flirt with people, it's her choice. And I think she can probably look after herself. It's only Seb – Seb's all right!"

James said nothing to this, but simply glowered disbelievingly over at an oblivious Lily.

"Why not have a drink and take your mind off it, Jamie?" Louis asked with a grin, materialising beside his two cousins and offering James a bottle of firewhisky. Rose raised her eyebrows.

"Where did you two have that stashed away?"

Louis grinned mysteriously.

"Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" he said teasingly, "But you can have some, if you want…"

Fenella, who had wandered over with Louis, looked torn between amusement and annoyance.

"Okay, Louis," she said, "If this all ends disastrously tonight, I'm officially blaming you – because you were definitely the first to get the drinks out," she glanced around her, "And if you two are going to start getting drunk, I'm chasing the kids off to bed."

* * *

Iseult was, for perhaps the first time since starting Hogwarts, entirely happy as she made her way up the stairs to the dormitory. The party would, she knew, be continuing on in the Common Room without her, but she didn't mind too much. The older ones were getting rowdy and starting to drink alcohol, and she had no real desire to be there when they were all drunk.

The party had been great fun. Lucy Weasley had come up with a bizarre and complex game that involved, among other things, hopping round the Common Room on one leg whilst flapping your wings like a chicken (a harder fete than might be imagined) and pushing an empty butterbeer bottle along the floor with your nose. All the First and Second Years (and even some of the older students too, such were Lucy's powers of persuasion) had joined in enthusiastically, levels of hilarity rising until they might as well have been drunk themselves. Issie had laughed until she almost cried, and now, as she made her way up to bed, she realised happily that not once during the evening had she thought about the fact that she really ought to be in Slytherin.

Finally, she felt like she belonged in Gryffindor.

Alice, coming up the stairs behind her, took her arm and squeezed it.

"That was fun!" the blonde girl said enthusiastically, "I wish we could stay!"

Issie nodded.

"Yeah… but the older ones are all just going to get drunk now."

Alice giggled.

"Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny won't be very pleased if Lily does. They'll probably blame James."

"Well, I doubt if she'll tell them," Sam Punton pointed out, "So they won't know, will they?"

Issie sat down on her bed when they entered the dormitory and started taking her shoes off.

"We should sneak down again later," she suggested, "And see them all being drunk."

Antigone and Sam greeted this idea with great enthusiasm, and even Alice, although she doubtfully voiced the concern that Fenella or one of the prefects might easily see them, had to agree with a giggle that it would be very funny.

However, the idea never came to fruition. None of them had any intention of going to sleep immediately, despite the fact that it was very late, but in fact, within five minutes of them all being in bed, the First Years were all dead to the world, and remained that way until morning, which meant that they missed all the drama of the rest of the night entirely.

* * *

"What's the matter with you?" Sapphie faced her boyfriend, frustration making her angry, "Why are you being weird with me?"

"I'm not being weird with you. I'm fine," he replied, so obviously lying that she groaned.

"Al, I'm not stupid…"

"No, but you are drunk," he retorted, "Talk to me when you're sober if you want to have this sort of conversation."

Sapphie bit her lip to stop herself snapping back. She didn't understand this Albus; it wasn't the usual one, and it didn't help that he was right; she _was_ slightly drunk and it meant that her brain couldn't deal with this.

"I'm not that drunk!" she insisted, which was true; she had been a bit tipsy, that was all, and she was sobering up now, thanks to him, "Is that what's wrong? You don't like that I'm drinking?" she asked, her brows coming down in a frown, knowing as she spoke that it wasn't that; he had been funny with her for the last few days. She knew, though, that her being drunk wasn't helping. Sometimes Albus was difficult to live up to.

"Of course it's not that," Albus said irritably, then paused as he realised that he'd just admitted that there _was_ something wrong, "Look, Sapphie, let's not have this conversation now; it's Lil's party…"

"_What_ conversation?" Sapphie's voice rose in frustration, her tongue loosened by the alcohol, "I don't get what conversation we're even having! And when are we going to have it, if not now?"

Albus hesitated, his face undecided.

"There's something I need to ask you," he said at last, "But I don't want to do it now…" He glanced around the Common Room, which was full of people getting steadily drunker. Someone – he suspected Louis – had rigged up some sort of music system, which was now booming sound out of every corner, although there were no visible speakers.

Sapphie stared at him, not understanding what was going on. From his behaviour and his tone of voice, it wasn't anything good that he wanted to ask.

"Al… please," she said uncertainly, "Just ask me! I can't stand this… It's not fair to say that sort of thing and then not tell me what it's all about. If I've done something…" her voice took on a pleading note.

"I can't. Not here," he said stubbornly, although he knew she was right – it _wasn't_ fair of him to have said that much and then leave it there…

"Fine then," Sapphie's face took on an equally stubborn expression. She grabbed his hand and began to tow him fast towards the portrait hole.

"_Sapphie!_" he hissed, as several people they passed laughed, and there was a loud remark about them being a bit keen, "What are you doing?"

She did not reply until they were outside the portrait hole, when she turned to face him, seeing that he did not look at all pleased, but ignoring this fact.

"All right," she said stubbornly, "Not there. How about here? Because I can't take being treated like I've done something wrong, without even knowing what it is..."

Albus stared at her in silence for a moment. He wanted to protest again; to say that this was not the time and she was too drunk and it didn't matter. But he knew the look on her face, and he knew it would be useless. And the night would be ruined for both of them anyway after this, so he might as well get it over with. Sapphie wasn't going to take no for an answer...

But he didn't know how to ask what had been on his mind for the last few days, ever since Lily's thoughtless words. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer either.

"Okay, fine," he said grimly, "But not here either. Come on," he set off down the corridor without looking back, assuming that she was following. He wasn't going to say it where anyone could walk out on them at any moment. The sound of the music faded rapidly as they got further away from the portrait hole, and he paused outside an empty classroom.

"In here," he said abruptly, "Nobody'll come in here."

Bemused and almost frightened, she followed him into the cold, dark classroom. The only light came from the strip of moonlight coming in the narrow window, and Sapphie realised that she had left her wand in the common room. She had left her jumper too, and was only wearing a small t-shirt, because the party had been warm. Albus did not appear to notice the cold though. She waited silently, not having a clue what he was going to say.

"I know…" Albus said at last, with great difficulty, looking anywhere but Sapphie, "I know about you and James…"

There was a moment of silence, in which the world seemed to stand still around them. Part of Albus was hoping that she would be angry; that she would deny that 'her and James' had ever happened, and demand to know who'd been telling him lies. She would be furious that he'd even suspected it, but at least it wouldn't be true…

She didn't.

"Me… and James…" she said at last, and then paused, staring at him so that when he looked up, he was locked in her gaze, "didn't mean anything," she went on, "Didn't mean _anything_ at all, Al… It was before we were going out – I would never… you know that, right?"

"Never what?" he asked woodenly, refusing with the stubbornness that was characteristic of him, to answer the pleading in her voice; to go along with her…

"Never cheat on you!" she said with a burst of sudden frustration, "You _know_ that, Albus! Fucking hell… _James_? One night… before we went out – _ages_ before! Does that really bother you? Is that what this is seriously about?"

"Don't make it sound like it's nothing, Sapphie," Albus said, anger born of jealousy rising in him, "You… you _slept_ with him… Or are you going to tell me you didn't?"

There was another small pause.

"No," she said at last in a small voice, "I'm not going to tell you I didn't, because I can't lie to you…But I am going to say it's not something I'm proud of," her voice shook slightly, and then grew stronger, "Actually, I regretted it as soon as it had happened, Al. I swear that there was nothing to it – no _feelings_!"

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked in even tones that were far more hurtful than if he had shouted, "I didn't even know you'd _had_ sex, Sapphie. We've been going out six months and I thought you were a virgin…" _like me_ were the words that were unspoken, although they hung in the air.

"Well, I'm not," Sapphie said, helplessly and unnecessarily, "We… we never talked about it…" She'd _wanted _to talk about it, but he'd never brought it up, and at first that had been such a refreshing change from the usual teenage boy… And then later… well, he was so steady and proper and _gentlemanly_ that she'd hesitated to be the first. No, she'd never actually lied to him – _wouldn't_ have lied to him – but she'd never exactly gone out of her way to tell him. They were such different people, and Sapphie knew that her approach wasn't his.

"Does… does it matter?" she asked uncertainly, "I mean… it's no big deal, Al…"

"_No big deal_?" he repeated incredulously, "You slept with my _brother_!"

"_Before_ we were going out!" she insisted, "You can't blame me for things that happened before we were even together, Albus!" her voice was a mix of pleading and frustration, "I know it was a bad idea; I know it was a mistake, I knew straight away! I'm not even interested in James that way, and he's not interested in me. Everyone does stupid things sometimes. I was drunk…"

"Was he your first?" Albus interrupted harshly. A part of him knew he was being unfair; that he was overreacting. But another part could not stop thinking of Sapphie and James together… Sapphie and _James_. His worst nightmare… And a third part of him _did_ mind that she wasn't a virgin, and that he hadn't known. He'd been happy just to be with her; he hadn't needed sex. That hadn't stopped him _wanting_ it. And she hadn't said anything, so he'd assumed she wasn't ready. But she'd done it before. Didn't she want to have sex with him? That thought hurt, especially when paired with the fact that she'd been perfectly willing to have sex with _James_, with no more build up than a few drinks and presumably a bit of kissing… And it changed the way he thought about her. That was awful, but it did. He didn't like one night stands; he didn't think they were a good thing to have. And he hadn't realised that Sapphie was the sort of person to have them…

Sapphie was silent for a moment after his question. She didn't know how to answer. What would be worse? That she lost her virginity to his brother in a drunken one night stand, or that she'd had sex with other people before him? In the end though, the only option was the truth.

"Yes," she said, "He was. But… but that doesn't make any difference, Al!" she looked up and met his eyes desperately, "Albus, please… Everyone makes such a big deal over virginity and first times and stuff, but _honestly_, I don't see it that way! Why should first times be special? They _aren't_ special – in fact, they're usually shit, by good sex standards," she pointed out, "My first time when it means something… now _that_ should be special – _that's_ something to make a big deal out of! Sex is just… just a random thing you do, unless you're with the right person. It didn't mean a thing…"

Albus stared blankly at her. He couldn't see it that way. He didn't understand how her mind was working, and that disturbed him as much as anything else.

"You had sex for the first time with a guy you don't give a shit about, when you were drunk?" he said slowly. Did she really not see any kind of problem with that?

"Look, I've _said_ I'm not proud of it!" she burst out, desperation bubbling over into frustration, "I know… I know how it seems! I know what you're thinking. And I'm _sorry_, Al – I'm sorry that I'm not perfect, I'm sorry that I make mistakes, I'm sorry I'm not like you, I'm sorry I don't live up to your expectations…" Her voice rose as she spoke, bitterness fighting with the sudden urge to cry. It was so _hard_ to live up to him… He was so clever, so sensible, he never did stupid things. And he was such a bloody _gentleman, _with his morals and his ideals, and she could _never _ be good enough… "What did you think?" she went on, wishing she could stop the bitter words from spilling out and just tell him she was sorry and beg him to forgive her… but she had too much pride for that, and she just wanted him to _understand…_ "I'm not some perfect pure virgin, Albus, and if that's what you thought, maybe you don't even know me! And if that's what you _want_, then maybe it's not _me_ you want…"

She broke off, tears threatening, and swallowed fiercely, because she _never _cried. Albus looked at her, and it felt as if his heart and mind had frozen. He didn't know what to think or say. He didn't know what to make of her. He'd always known she wasn't a rule-keeper. Was it true, what she said? Had he wanted her to be some vision of perfection? He didn't think so. He'd known her a long time; he'd known she wasn't _perfect_. Did it really bother him that she wasn't a virgin? Well, yes, a bit, but only because it made her more experienced than him, and that wasn't the main thing…

"I don't…" he began, then changed what he had been going to say, "Merlin, Sapphie, it's not that you're not a virgin – we're not living in the nineteenth century! It's just… It's _James_! You know, just for once, I thought I'd got something that was better than anything he'd ever had," he stopped and swallowed, feeling like he'd just bared a part of his soul by saying that, because he'd _never_ admit to being jealous of James… "Then it turns out, he had it too… and you didn't _tell_ me, Sapphie! Everyone else knew – but not me!"

"Yes, and _why_ d'you think I didn't tell you?" she demanded, "Because I knew you'd do this! I knew you'd think it meant more than it did. Fuck it, Al, you make this sound like one big competition between you and James! What am I, some sort of trophy?" her temper had risen now, because she was sick of being judged for one bad decision, and more than sick of being described as 'it,' "You only wanted me because James couldn't have me, is that it...?"

"I can't do this, Sapphie," Albus interrupted her. It felt like something was being ripped out of his chest, but he knew he needed time to process everything; time to rethink. He couldn't just accept it and go back to how things were. "If you don't understand why it matters, I don't know how to explain, but it _does_ matter; it matters to me. He's my _brother_, Sapphie, and I can't…" he looked helplessly at her, "I can't deal with it. Not right now."

There was a moment's silence. Then Sapphie broke it.

"You can't deal with it? You can't deal with the fact that once, before we were going out, I had sex with your brother, and I've regretted it ever since..?"

"No," he said bluntly, "And if you think that what you just said is _no big deal_, then maybe you're right, maybe I don't know you at all."

There was another silence, in which Sapphie felt the world begin to crumble around her, and she realised just how hard she'd fallen for Albus Potter…

"No," she said slowly, her voice sounding unnatural in her own ears as she struggled to keep it together. Suddenly getting very very drunk didn't seem like too bad an idea. "No, maybe you don't…"

Unable to trust herself to say any more, or even to look at him, she turned round and walked out of the room. She wished he'd say something else. She wished he'd call her back, and tell her that this was not really happening; that she'd misunderstood him.

He didn't.

* * *

Meri had prised Lily away from Sebastian, and managed to avoid Zeke and get her friend onto a sofa. She wasn't quite sure who had been giving Lily drinks – she suspected Louis – but she was definitely tipsy, giggling helplessly at nothing in particular. Now was not the time to have serious conversations about her flirting habits, so Meri had not tried.

"This is so much fun!" Lily slurred enthusiastically, falling sideways onto her friend (okay, more than tipsy, Meri decided, wishing she could strangle Louis Weasley), "Isn't it, Meri? I love parties!"

"Yeah, it's great," Meri agreed more dubiously. It wasn't that she didn't like parties. It was just that everything seemed to be all wrong this evening, and a nasty part of her had to admit that a lot of it was to do with Zeke's increasingly obvious infatuation with Lily.

And the night was getting decidedly messy too, which made her nervous. Lily wasn't the only drunk person by any means; James had probably had more than anyone in the room, and while he could hold his alcohol quite well, he definitely wasn't sober any more, and there were others too, including Louis, who was manning the drinks table and had been keeping his own glass amply topped up too. Someone had turned the music up very loud, and some of the fifth years had cleared a space to be a 'dance floor' and were staggering around it with increasing clumsiness, drinks spilling all over the place.

Meri wasn't sure what the time was, but it was late; if any teacher walked in on this, there would be hell to pay, and Meri, as one of the original organisers of the party, couldn't help being slightly worried by that thought. She wasn't sure where Fenella had gone; the Head Girl seemed to have vanished. Albus (who could generally relied upon to stay sober enough to make sensible decisions too) had also disappeared with Sapphie some time ago, to the general amusement of everyone who had seen them leave. Meri, however, thought that they hadn't looked much like a couple going to spend some quality time together, and more like a couple looking for somewhere private to argue.

As if in confirmation of her thoughts, the portrait hole swung open to reveal Sapphie Jordan, alone, and looking both furious and devastated, her face pale and her eyes stormy. Not that many people even noticed her enter the room, but she made a beeline for the drinks table. Meri suddenly had a very bad feeling; things seemed to be going wrong one by one, and she had a sense that the night was going to end in some sort of disaster...

"Meri..." she turned round again as Lily whispered her name, to find her friend as white as a ghost, "Mer... I don't feel too good... I think I'm going to be sick..."

* * *

Sapphie intended to get drunk; as drunk as she possibly could. She didn't know who she was angrier with; Albus for being such a fucking perfect bastard with such fucking perfect ideals, herself for that stupid, stupid mistake last year, or James for just being James. On the whole, she thought Albus, because blaming him was easier than dealing with the almost crippling pain of knowing that it was over between them. They could never go back to how things had been. She knew Albus, she knew his stubbornness, she knew that he could never feel the same way about her again, and she hated that it hurt this much.

Until he'd walked away from her, she hadn't even realised how she felt about him. It had happened so gradually, creeping up on her. She'd always liked him; thought he was sweet, and found him curiously restful after the lively company of James and Rose. His steadiness was like a rock that they had all relied on, and those were the reasons she had said yes when he asked her out before the summer, that and the fact that she enjoyed spending time with him; loved their endless conversations about nothing in particular; found his dry sense of humour much funnier than James and Louis' clowning. But somewhere along the line, it had become so much more than that, and the thought that it was over...

Yes, she needed to get drunk. Get so drunk she couldn't feel anything any more. So she headed to the drinks table, despite the fact that Louis was there, and James was hanging around it with Clem Robbins draped over him, although true to form, he wasn't paying any attention to her. Sapphie ignored him, and Louis too, grabbing a glass of punch – which had started the night as mostly pumpkin juice but which had kept being replenished and was now a lethal concoction of various spirits. She downed half the glass, topped it up from the firewhisky bottle standing nearby, and took another large mouthful, feeling it burn on the way down. The faster she drank, the faster she would be drunk.

"Sapphie?" she looked up to see Louis staring at her, wide-eyed and concerned, "Er... Sapph, are you okay? Where's Al...?"

"I don't know and I don't fucking care!" Sapphie burst out, "I'm fine!" she swallowed rapidly, gulping the other half of her drink down, the burning less than it had been, but the strong alcohol rushing straight to her head.

"Of course she's fine!" a cheerful voice spoke resoundingly in her ear and an arm came down round her shoulders. Fuck. _James_. The last bloody person she wanted to talk to.

"She... she's getting into the... the, you know, the spirit!" the older boy went on enthusiastically. Sapphie was still sober enough to realise that James was very drunk, and also that he had somehow got rid of Clem. "Let's all have another drink!" James finished, making a grab for a bottle and drinking straight out of it.

"Sapphie?" Louis questioned again, ignoring James. He was by no means sober himself, but sober enough to realise that something was very wrong.

"We broke up," Sapphie answered harshly, "It's over. Finished. James is right. Let's have another drink."

* * *

She lost track of how many drinks she actually had, but she knew that there were a lot in a short space of time. She wanted James to go away and stop reminding her of Al, but he wouldn't; he just kept handing her more drinks instead. And somehow – she never did remember how – she ended up on a sofa with him, crying into a glass of firewhisky.

"Screw him. Screw fucking Albus. Just because I'm not perfect..." she suddenly realised that she was speaking her thoughts aloud, but couldn't seem to stop, "He thinks I'm a slut... maybe I _am_ a slut, but I don't care, nobody's perfect, they can't be... only him... he's the only person in the world who's perfect.." She really wasn't sure that James was listening, or knew what she was talking about, but she didn't care. She hated James anyway, because the whole thing had happened because of him. And she hated Albus, and she hated being judged, and she didn't _care_ any more... If he thought she was a slag, she'd be one; show him that she could only be the person she was, and if he had a problem with that, he could deal with it... And part of her wanted him to hurt; wanted to make him feel the pain and rejection that she felt now...

That was as far as her thoughts went, and she never remembered making a decision, because however drunk she was, she didn't think she'd ever have decided to do what she did next. But the next thing she knew, she had a fistful of the front of James' shirt and was pulling his lips down fiercely against her own. And then her brain shut down and she stopped thinking; it was just feelings, an outpouring of anger and grief and frustration, and she forgot whose lips they were on hers, whose chest was pressing down on her, whose hand had moved to the back of her head, whose tongue was in her mouth...

And when Albus appeared in the portrait hole, after a solitary walk in the cold corridors to try – and fail – to clear his head, all he saw were two familiar bodies locked together, limbs tangling, lips hungrily drinking each other in. The room was quieter now; a lot of people had passed out or gone to bed; the music had been turned down. And as he stood there, frozen to the spot as if someone had put a bodybind on him, she broke away and lifted her head, and a pair of dazed brown eyes met a pair of shocked green ones for a single second, before he turned around and left the common room again.


	11. Aftershocks

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing but the OCs and the plot. **

**A/N: I'm going to return to my habit of giving out virtual brownies to all my reviewers, so today they go to Asterix Tutnix, Tessia, 13dramaqueen13, Ember Nickel, and ArwenJaneLilyLyra, as well as all the reviewers for the previous chapters, who reviewed during my hiatus. Also to my two anon reviewers, who I wish I could reply individually to, but obviously I can't. All I can say is, you should get an account! **

**I apologise to anyone who didn't get an individual reply. I'll try and get to them all this time, but I'm having serious internet issues - my internet at home is down, and so I'm relying on updating from my work computer. My time's limited, so I can't attend to PMs as easily.**

** To those who were missing her, Hazel reappears at the end of this chapter.**

* * *

The Heathrow International Apparition Terminal was quiet on the Sunday morning in the middle of November. The busy period, in the build up to Christmas, had not yet started, and the only incoming Apparitions scheduled for this morning were a couple of Australians coming on holiday, and a British family coming in from Alaska; this second one had caused something of a stir, partly because one of the names on the tickets was fairly famous, and partly because the people who had come to meet the family were even more famous.

The woman arrived first, holding a small boy of around seven years old by the hand. The child was attractive-looking, with an angelic face, a halo of golden curls, and a dreamy expression, so that he would not have looked out of place in a Muggle stained-glass window. The woman stepped out of the Apparition circle with a friendly smile at the purple-robed officials standing nearby to check her passport, before turning to the four people who were waiting for her. They all moved forward towards her, but a red-haired woman was ahead of the others, and embraced the first woman warmly.

"Luna!"

"Hello, Ginny!" Luna's smile was wide, although her tone of voice sounded more as if it had been a few weeks than five years since they had seen each other. That was always how Luna was; she just walked back into your life exactly as if she'd never left it.

"Oh, Luna, it's so lovely to see you!" Ginny took a step back and looked fondly at her friend before letting her go and allowing the other three people there to greet her.

"Five years, I can't believe it," Harry commented after the initial hugs and greetings were over, "And... which of the boys are you?" he smiled down at the small boy.

"Lorcan," the child said at once, his face solemn. Luna looked down at him.

"Don't be silly, darling," she said vaguely, and looked up at Harry, "This is Lysander. He always pretends to be Lorcan. I can't imagine why."

"Nice to meet you, Lysander," Harry's lips twitched slightly as he spoke to the boy, who had scowled as his mother revealed his lie.

"Funny, I remember some other twins who used to do exactly the same thing. Remember that, Ginny?" Ron commented to his sister, with the slightly sad smile that they all still used when dwelling on the bittersweet memories of the other Weasley twin.

"Yes I do, and not even Mum could tell the difference," Ginny agreed, smiling down at the boy, "You've got a clever mother, Lysander. Because you and Lorcan are identical too, aren't you?"

"Oh, I can always tell the difference," Luna assured them, "Rolf can't, but I really don't understand why not. They _look_ exactly the same, but otherwise, they're completely different."

At that moment, there was a loud pop inside the circle, and another two people appeared in it; a middle-aged man holding another small boy, identical to the first, firmly by the hand.

Rolf Scamander had aged more than his wife, who looked little different from her school days. He was grey now, and had a longish beard that he always grew when he was away on projects, because he said it was too much hassle to shave. However his eyes still held the same boyish humour they always had done as he shook hands all round (Rolf greeted all friends the same way, male or female) and introduced Lorcan, the older twin. Both boys had the same dreamy expression, as if, as Hermione remarked, they were composing great imaginative works inside their heads.

"Oh, they are," Rolf assured her with a cheerful grin, "Lorcan's going to be a poet or a novelist, I'm certain of it, or maybe a painter. That dreamy look is the creative genius at work. Lysander..." he glanced at his younger son and chuckled, "Well, let's just say that the dreamier Lysander looks, the greater the mischief you need to watch out for... That's all our Sandy's imagination gets used for..."

"So," Ginny changed the subject, as they made their way out of the building, after the Scamanders' luggage had also arrived, "We've found you somewhere to live all right. At least, Hannah did – Hannah and Neville are dying to see you by the way, and so are all the others. They couldn't come - Neville had a staff meeting or something, and Hannah can't leave the pub so easily. But anyway, Hannah knows all the news all the time, running the Leaky, and she heard that the Davies' – you remember them? - were emigrating to Greece or somewhere and wanted to let their house. It's a nice place, right on the main street in Hogsmeade. Which wouldn't be very convenient for us, working in London, but we didn't think you'd mind the isolation, given the places you've lived in..." she grinned at her friend, "You'll be coming to us tonight though, just for a few nights, and we'll get you all moved in..." she smiled at Lorcan and Lysander, "And there are enough bedrooms for you two to have one each, if you want..."

"Hogsmeade's near Hogwarts, isn't it?" Lorcan asked, "That's what Mummy said."

"Can we go to Hogwarts?" Lysander demanded, "I want to go to Hogwarts and play Quidditch!"

Hermione laughed.

"Well, you'll fit right in with the crowd; James will be delighted to have a young Quidditch player to lead astray..." she smiled at Harry and Ginny.

"Only too true," Harry agreed ruefully, "Although considering the family history, there are surprisingly few of the current lot who play Quidditch... James, Lily, Dominique, Fred... that's it, isn't it?"

"All right, all right, don't rub it in," Ron grumbled, "My two are hopeless."

"No they're not, Ron," Hermione said sternly, "There are other things to be good at than Quidditch, you know. Rosie's an excellent dueller, and she's very good at Potions too. And Hugo has a mathematical brain..."

"A mathematical brain?" Ginny stared at her, "_Hugo_?"

"You wait," Hermione asserted, defending her son from the implied slur, "I'm convinced there are sides to Hugo we've never seen. He may not get the same grades as Rose, but he isn't stupid. I wouldn't surprised if he turned out to be a very good businessman or something, like George."

"Just agree with her," Ron muttered, perfectly audibly, "When it comes to Hugo, it's safer..."

Luna smiled her vague smile.

"You know," she stated fondly, "What I like about coming home is that no matter how long I've been away, you two never change..."

* * *

Meri Hewitt woke to greet a grey November morning. It was Sunday and it was early, so nobody else was stirring, which was a good thing. The day felt ominous, like the morning after a hurricane when you're just preparing to open your eyes and look at the carnage. Meri wasn't sure she wanted to open them, even though the carnage was nothing to do with her. She had been more than occupied for a long time with holding Lily's long red hair back while she vomited into the toilet, and then with putting her to bed. However, she had been enlightened as to how the night had ended by Freya and Claire, creeping into the dorm shortly afterwards. Meri was quite glad that Lily had been asleep by that point, as the gossip was all about her brothers and Sapphie Jordan. Meri didn't understand it; she liked Sapphie, but who went and broke up with one guy and then promptly snogged his brother's face off? And she – along with everyone else – had believed that Sapphie-and-Al was fixed. They were an odd couple, but a good one; somehow, they worked. But she didn't see how they could ever go back from this...

And as for James... well, Meri couldn't even bring herself to be surprised. She believed – because Lily insisted – that there was a good side to James, and sometimes she thought she'd seen glimpses of it coming out, but recently, all she'd seen was the arrogant bastard. The guy who would kiss the girl his brother had broken up with only hours before.

Shaking her head, Meri made her way quietly over to Lily's cubicle and peeked in through the curtains, to make sure that Lily hadn't thrown up again in the night and wasn't choking on her own vomit. However, she was sleeping peacefully, so Meri left her to it. Might as well let her sleep, because she would be feeling rough when she woke up, Meri guessed.

She showered and dressed as quietly as she could; the other girls were sleeping too, and Meri wasn't sure why she was so wide awake. To be honest, she hadn't been sleeping very well since the incident in the woods, when her memory had been modified. She supposed she should go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Booth about it, but she didn't feel like making another fuss. The last one had been big enough. She had had three days in St Mungo's – even though she had felt fine after the first one – and her parents had been summoned, and Aurors had come and asked her lots of questions, and then forbidden her from talking about it. She supposed that it was quite serious if someone had been trying to get into Hogwarts, but to Meri, it seemed almost like something that had happened in a dream, not something real. It bothered her, though, that there was a whole portion of her life that was missing from her memory. That wasn't a comfortable thought at all, and she suspected that it was that that kept her awake at night. She just wished she could _remember_...

She put these thoughts aside with difficulty, and wandered down to the common room, where the fires were already on. It was cold this morning, and she had put her thickest jumper on. It wouldn't surprise her if they got snow quite soon, even though it was only November. As she stood by the fire, trying to keep warm, the portrait hole opened, and she looked up, startled, to see who was coming in at this time in the morning, and felt a sudden apprehension when she realised it was Albus Potter.

She had known Albus vaguely all her life. Her mother had been at school with his parents; not among their closest circle of friends at that time, but the war had drawn all those who had fought closer together. And then her mother had joined the Auror Department, so Meri had always known the Potters as children of her mother's colleagues, even before she was old enough to be told the stories of the war. She and Lily had been friends before, but had only become as close as they were after starting Hogwarts. These days, she knew Albus as the older brother of her best friend, but what she knew, she liked very much. Albus was quiet and steady, but with something about him that meant that when he did speak, others tended to listen. But she definitely didn't know him well enough to talk to him about what had happened last night, and yet what else was there to talk about? Should she ignore it and pretend she didn't know? That just seemed heartless...

He looked awful, she thought, observing him quickly. She didn't know whether he'd been out all night or not, but it was perfectly possible by the look of him. It was a shock to see calm, collected Al looking as if he was coming apart at the seams, and Meri's heart went out to him, even though the story was that it was him who'd broken up with Sapphie.

"Oh... hey," he said forcedly, after a moment's awkward silence, "I didn't think anyone would be up yet..."

"Sorry," Meri said, and then wondered what on earth she was apologising for, "I mean... don't take any notice of me. I just couldn't sleep."

"It's okay," he sounded as if the words were automatic, but he didn't seem really to mean them, "I'm not..." he paused for a moment, then changed what he had been going to say, "Hope you had a good time last night. And Lil... did she like her party?" The words didn't sound bitter or sarcastic, only slightly wooden, as if his thoughts were only half with them, for which she didn't blame him.

Meri smiled slightly, although the worried crease never quite left her forehead.

"Um... yeah... I think she liked it," she said, not bothering to answer for herself, "Up to the point she started throwing up, anyway..."

"Oh, Merlin," Albus sounded both exasperated and resigned, "How bad was she?"

"Not too bad," Meri lied, not wanting to worry him more, "It was just... you know... the first time she'd ever really drunk much. So she threw it back up. But then she went to sleep and was fine..."

Albus looked as if he didn't entirely believe her, but didn't push it.

"Are you... Are you okay?" Meri started the sentence cautiously and finished it in a rush, wishing that she had never begun it. He wouldn't want to talk about it, least of all to _her_. But it had just been too awkward, trying to make small talk when she knew... It was a stupid question though, because she knew the answer just by looking at him. His face was pale, there were shadows under his eyes, a bleak look in them, and his hair was even more untidy than usual. He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, although she thought he might be trying to work out how much she would have heard.

"Well..." he sighed slightly, "I've been better," he shot her a sideways glance, "I take it you heard..."

"Well, I heard part of it," she said honestly, "Not the whole thing. I'm sorry..."

"Yeah well, me too," his voice was tense and he didn't sound like he wanted to talk about or dwell on it. However he then broke off, apparently thinking he had been unnecessarily abrupt with her.

"Sorry. It's not your fault, or your problem. I just... you know. Never mind," he shook his head, "I should go to bed or something. What time is it?"

"About half seven," she told him. So, he hadn't been to bed. Well, that didn't surprise her. He looked like he'd wandered the corridors all night or something.

"Right," he said neutrally, and began to move past her, then paused and hesitated, obviously torn between saying something and not saying it.

"Meri..." he said at last, with difficulty, "What happened last night... does Lily know too?"

"No," Meri shook her head, "She was asleep."

Albus looked relieved, although Meri wasn't sure why. The whole house would be buzzing with it; Lily had her head in the clouds, but even she could hardly avoid hearing about it. Or noticing that Al and Sapphie had broken up.

Meri thought he'd keep walking now, but he didn't. He was still hesitating, as if he wanted to say something. She waited, puzzled.

"Look, Meri," he said eventually, "Can I ask you something?"

"Course," Meri agreed, slightly apprehensively; what was he going to ask?

He still hesitated. "Listen... did you know... about... well, anything about Sapphie and James. Before last night."

Things clicked together in Meri's brain. The only thing she'd heard was a vague rumour, no details. Sapphie was a sixth year, she didn't report her doings to fourth years. But if Albus had heard the same story Meri had, it was no wonder that he was upset. Although it was hardly Sapphie's fault either, seeing as it had happened before she and Al were going out. But then... what the hell had she been thinking of, going and snogging James of all people, right afterwards? None of it made sense to Meri...

But Albus was still waiting for an answer.

"Well... yeah. I mean, a bit. Nothing much – I don't know if... you know..." she trailed off awkwardly. Albus sighed, looking unsurprised.

"Yeah, well it seems like pretty much everyone did," he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice, then looked at her, his green eyes intense, "Listen, Meri – I know you're good at seeing things the way they are. Last night, she told me... well, you know. About her and James. And I broke up with her," he paused, as if these words had been painful to say, "But... did I just overreact? I mean, was I being unreasonable? _Is_ it a big deal?"

Meri stared at him, nonplussed by the questions. Why was Albus asking _her_ these things? He'd said that she was good at seeing things the way they were, but she suspected that the real reason was just that she was _there_.

"I... don't know," she said at last, feeling useless. How was she _supposed_ to know though? She was fourteen, and she'd never had a boyfriend. She was completely the wrong person to answer questions about romance and sex. She tried to think about what she'd feel if she was in Al's place... or in Sapphie's. She didn't have a sister, so it was difficult. The closest thing to a sister she had was Lily. And she remembered how she'd felt for the last few weeks, as Lily carried on this thing – whatever it was – with Zeke. How she'd felt last night when Lily was flirting with Seb Graves, and Zeke had been watching, hurt helplessness on his face.

Zeke wasn't her boyfriend, of course. That made things very different. But what if she _had_ gone out with Zeke, never knowing that anything had happened between him and Lily? And what if he had told her in the end, that he'd been with Lily first, and everyone had known except her...?

Yes, she would mind. And it wasn't even the same for her, because Lily wasn't really her sister, and they had never actually been competitive. Would she mind enough to break up with him? Of that, she wasn't sure...

"I think it's a big deal," she said honestly, "Even if it isn't anyone's fault, it changes things, doesn't it? And anyway..." she broke off. She had been going to say 'and anyway, then she went and snogged him, so it's a big deal _now_,' but realised in time that that would be the most tactless thing in the world to say.

"Yeah..." Albus agreed, his eyes on a point over her shoulder; he was talking to himself as much as to her, "It does change things, and I can't help that. Maybe I was harsh... Maybe I shouldn't mind... but I _do_ mind..."

"Of course you mind," Meri said uncertainly, not because she was uncertain of what she was saying, but because she wasn't sure Al was even listening any more. He glanced briefly at her, and gave her a bleak smile.

"Thanks Meri. Seriously."

She smiled back, not sure what he was thanking her for.

"That's okay."

She watched him head towards the stairs to the boys' dorms, and heaved a sigh. She had a feeling that the difficulties this year had only just got started...

* * *

The aftershocks of Lily and Iseult's birthday party lasted far longer than the hangovers of those who had drunk too much. Rose Weasley had a shouting match with James Potter, in which she accused him, among other things, of being a disgusting, backstabbing, selfish, arrogant prick, and a whore. James' defence consisted mostly of telling her to fuck off and mind her own business.

She tried to have a similar one with Sapphie Jordan, but Sapphie uncharacteristically refused to shout back, so Rose ignored her (now ex) best friend instead, and spent more time sitting with and talking to Albus than she had for years. Albus quickly went back to his usual self, outwardly at least, and remained quiet, steady and stoic, although he avoided looking at Sapphie. Sapphie, on the other hand, went round looking thoroughly miserable, her usual brightness and high spirits well and truly crushed.

James ignored the whole thing. He was not quite able to laugh it off, especially since both Albus and Rose were refusing to speak to him, and he would scowl in an annoyed way if anyone mentioned it, but what his feelings were on the whole thing, nobody knew, not even his innermost circle of Louis, Fenella and the Carson twins. He and Sapphie continued to play quidditch together, but that was the extent of their contact. The only person brave enough to bring it up to him was Lucy Weasley, and she received such a snarl in reply that even she backed off hurriedly. Fenella and Louis, however, who were present, exchanged significant glances. If James was that touchy about something, it was seriously bothering him, and none of his careless shrugs would convince them otherwise.

All in all, Gryffindor house had become a slightly uncomfortable place to reside, although certain members of it remained unaffected. The first years were some of these; although they could hardly help but be aware of the rifts developing between the sixth and seventh years, it was far enough above their heads to be simply a matter of interest, although Issie was heard to mutter to Alice and Jake that she wasn't surrpised that James Potter would do something like that.

One of the other people to remain apparently aloof from it all was, surprisingly enough, Lily. Despite the whole thing centring on her two brothers, Lily ignored it all; in fact, anyone who did not know better might have thought she was unaware of most of it. Meri, who did know better, knew that Lily was not that unobservant, but that she was choosing, in typical Lily fashion, to stay uninvolved. Rose had decidedly chosen Albus' side; Lily, despite her recent arguments with James, refused to pick a side, but simply made the most of James' attention being elsewhere. She had cast off Zeke Lucas, and was now fooling around - you couldn't really call it 'going out' - with Seb Graves, her fellow quidditch player. The reason for this was that even Lily had at last begun to suspect that Zeke was not as casual about the relationship as she would have liked. He was becoming clingy and possessive, two things she disliked. So, with some regret, she broke it off, saying rather sadly to Meri that it was a shame, she liked Zeke, but she didn't like him enough to be his girlfriend, and she didn't want to end up hurting him.

Meri thought that it might be a tad too late for that.

Christmas approached fast. Rose was still not speaking to either Sapphie or James, and Albus wasn't really speaking to anyone much. Gryffindor were supposed to play Slytherin at quidditch at the end of November, but the match was postponed due to gale-force winds and driving rain, and put off until after Christmas, which was probably a good thing due to the decided awkwardness between Sapphie and James, both members of the Gryffindor team. Gryffindor had lost their first match against Ravenclaw, much to James' anger (which was increased by a jeering letter from his cousin Dominique, an ex-Ravenclaw and ex-Quidditch Captain), while Slytherin had thoroughly trounced Hufflepuff, leaving Ravenclaw and Slytherin out ahead, and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff trailing. They needed to win their next match to stay in the running for the cup.

The Scamanders were settling into their house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Ginny paid several flying trips to help them move in, which she combined with brief visits to Hogwarts to see her children, and was puzzled by, and suspicious of, the moods she found them in, but nobody would tell her anything, not even Lily. Plans were made for the Christmas holidays, which were always a time of big get-togethers and reunions in the Weasley family. With Molly and Arthur in Romania with Charlie, they were bereft of their usual hosts, but this problem was solved by the fact that Luna insisted on inviting the whole family to spend Christmas in Hogsmeade, an opportunity that Harry and Ron jumped at, as they had still not had a chance to do their investigations at Hogwarts. Spending Christmas with the Scamanders was a natural and easy way for them to be in the vicinity without attracting any undue attention, and so the invitations were accepted.

Bill and Fleur and their family were going to Fleur's parents in France, and Charlie would of course be with his parents in Romania, but the rest of the family would be there. Percy had kicked up a fuss about the distance ("As if it makes any difference!" Ron had said exasperatedly, "You can Apparate, can't you?" "Aubrey doesn't like Apparating," Percy had said stiffly) but he had agreed in the end, and the Longbottoms were also invited, as were Teddy Lupin and Andromeda Tonks, two honorary members of the Weasley/Potter family, without whom Christmas would not have been Christmas. Both Luna and Rolf were only children, and their parents were dead, and Harry thought to himself that this was probably the closest thing either of them had to an extended family.

Scorpius and Iseult were not going home until several days into the holidays, much to Issie's disappointment. Their parents were finally bringing their baby brother home from St Mungo's, and although both older children wanted to be there, their father was firm. Their mother was still fragile and easily upset, and it would be better for her to be able to bring her youngest child home and get him settled as quietly as possible. Scorpius and Iseult could come home a few days later, and would meet their brother then.

Scorpius informed Hazel of this fact by email, and she was also disappointed. She was looking forward to seeing her best friend, and to unloading some of her thoughts onto him in a way she couldn't do in writing. The whole affair with poor Fiona Murphy had apparently died down, and in fact might as well never have happened for all anyone remembered of it, and Hazel couldn't help feeling as if she must be going mad sometimes, and remembering something that had never taken place. Talking to Scorpius would help, because he at least knew that it had really happened.

She was thinking of this as she strolled along the pavement of the High Street in Mirlton on the Saturday before Christmas. School had finished yesterday, and she knew that Hogwarts has finished on Thursday, but Scorpius would not be home until Monday. She had a few last Christmas presents to buy, and was heading for some shops at the other end, weaving her way in and out of the Christmas crowds. It was cold, and although she had gloves on, her hands were shoved deep in her pockets, but there had been no snow so far. She stepped sideways to avoid a large, old-fashioned pram, and it was only as she passed by that she glanced sideways and realised who was pushing it.

"Astoria!" she exclaimed, turning fully to face the woman, who was wearing the same long dark coat that she had been wearing in Charlotte's video. Now however, rather than a swollen bump in the front of it, she was pushing the pram. She jumped slightly at her name, and looked up, her face relaxing slightly as she saw Hazel.

"Oh... Hazel..." she smiled, but Hazel got the distinct impression that she was having to try very hard to sound pleased to see her. In fact, Hazel was slightly shocked by how ill Astoria looked. Of course, she had been very ill back in October, which was only a few weeks ago, and the baby's illness must have been incredibly stressful, but still... Her face was almost gaunt, and she had huge shadows under her eyes, and she was painfully, obviously thin. Pulling herself together, however, Hazel smiled back.

"How are you?" she asked with genuine warmth. She liked Astoria – the woman had been kind to her, ever since she and Scorpius had first made friends – and she had been worried about her lately.

"Well, I haven't been well," Astoria acknowledged, "But you probably knew that. I'm much better now though..." the stiffness of her first greeting was fading into the habitual reserve that was just Astoria's way. She was a quiet woman by nature, and Hazel suspected that she was especially so when in non-magical society.

"And this is the baby?" she enquired with a delighted smile, peering into the depths of the pram. Nothing was visible; Astoria was clearly taking no chances in the December air, and the baby was well wrapped up.

"Yes, this is Caelum," Astoria's face lit into a genuine smile, and she reached over to pull the blanket back slightly and reveal a tiny sleeping face, capped by a blue woolly hat.

"Oh, he's gorgeous!" Hazel said impulsively, and then smiled up at the woman, "I'm so glad he's home in time for Christmas. And Scorpius and Issie'll be coming home soon, won't they?"

"Yes," Astoria nodded, "Their school finished the other day, but they'll be home the day after tomorrow," she spoke carefully, because neither of Scorpius' parents had any idea that Hazel knew about the world of magic, "Oh, and I never thanked you for the card you sent," she smiled again, although there was a shadow behind her smile, Hazel thought, "That was kind of you, dear. Draco told me you'd been round to the house."

"I was worried about you," Hazel said simply, "Scorpius told me about everything..."

"Yes, I thought he must have done," Astoria agreed, although the faintest of puzzled frowns appeared on her face, and Hazel was suddenly uneasy that she had said too much. Scorpius' parents did not know about his use of Muggle technology either, so Astoria must be wondering how they communicated, and what Hazel thought of being woken in the night by an owl tapping at the window. However, the woman pulled herself together and continued. "And we were quite worried ourselves. But luckily, we seem to have come through it..."

"Astoria," an unfamiliar but imperious voice interrupted them at this moment, and Hazel looked round to find herself facing a tall woman, as blonde as Astoria was dark, but otherwise with a distinct resemblance to her.

"Daphne," Astoria suddenly seemed twice as uneasy, glancing worriedly at Hazel, "Hazel, this is my sister, Daphne. This is Hazel Kitson, Daph – a friend of Scorpius'."

Hazel looked with interest at the woman. She had heard Scorpius mention his Aunt Daphne, although she couldn't remember anything he'd said about her, and she had never met any of his extended family. The second woman was immaculately turned out, in contrast to Astoria, who usually looked neat and attractive, but was currently looking a little unkempt. Older witches and wizards apparently often had trouble with keeping up with Muggle fashions, according to Scorpius, but Daphne did not look out of place, in a pair of smart black trousers, heels, and a fashionably cut trench coat. Her expression as she looked at Hazel was guarded, but Hazel detected coldness behind it, and more than a hint of contempt.

"I see," the fair haired woman said, "Pleased to meet you, Hazel. Are you, er... a school friend of Scorpius'?"

So, that was what was bothering her. The fact that Hazel wasn't - or might not be - a witch.

"No," Hazel replied clearly, "I go to the High School here." Yes, the coldness and contempt definitely increased at this news. So Scorpius' Aunt Daphne was one of the blood purists Scorpius had told her about. His father was one too apparently, but he hid it better than this woman. Refusing to let herself be intimidated, Hazel met her gaze boldly, and Daphne was the first to look away with a sniff, as if to say that Hazel was not worthy of her attention.

"Come along, Astoria," she said, without looking at the girl again, "You've been out here in the cold quite long enough; you're still not well. We should be going."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Astoria agreed meekly, shooting a look at her sister that Hazel caught but did not quite understand. It seemed to be a mixture of warning, apprehension and pleading, but Daphne did not appear to notice it.

"Bye, Hazel. It was lovely to see you," Astoria smiled somewhat anxiously at Hazel before beginning to push the pram on up the street.

"You too," Hazel said neutrally, although her brain was moving at about a hundred miles an hour. It was all just suggestions and nuances, but something was jarring here. Something was not quite right. She hadn't taken at all to Daphne, who, for all her concern for her sister's health, had not even offered to push the pram. But that wasn't it – she had noticed it before Daphne had ever appeared. Astoria claimed to have come through her illness, but she was not her usual self. There was deep worry and anxiety in her eyes; what could be causing that? And her personal appearance... Astoria had never been glamorous, but she had always made an effort. Now she seemed to have let herself go. Something was bothering her. The word 'depressed' occurred to Hazel; Astoria certainly seemed unusually down, and Hazel wondered uneasily whether she could really be suffering from some form of depression. It wouldn't be so unlikely, after everything she'd been through recently.

But whatever it was, Hazel didn't think that the presence of her sister was helping Astoria, and she wondered why...

**A/N: To anyone who loves Luna as much as I do, and was pleased to see her appearing in this chapter: She's not going to be a major character in this story (I just couldn't resist bringing her and her twins in briefly) but I've just published a oneshot, _The Naturalist's Assistant_, telling how she and Rolf met in the Amazon rainforest, around twelve years before this story started. It's on my profile, if anyone wants to read it.**


	12. Meeting the Family

**Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing you recognise is mine. I claim nothing but the OCs and the plot.**

**A/N: Thanks and brownies for StormsInNeverland, Asterix Tutnix, ArwenJaneLilyLyra, 13dramaqueen13, yoseriahippie, Forever Written in the Stars, ladeedadeedadeedadeeda, and Ember Nickel for reviews for the last chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Harry carefully packed his old Auror kit in a trunk. It had been a while since he had used it. He lovingly stroked his old invisibility cloak; it had been through a lot of adventures with him, both at school and since, in his long career as an Auror. Then he crossed over to his desk and opened his drawer.

It had been even longer since he had had this out. It wasn't much use outside Hogwarts, but he had refused to hand it over to any of the children. It had been tempting, but it would have been very irresponsible (he told himself) to encourage rule-breaking like that, and he had resisted the temptation, even when Teddy had come begging. Actually, he wasn't sure whether any of his own children even knew of its existence. Teddy had had the information from George, but Harry had had a word with George after that, and George had agreed, albeit with a roll of the eyes, not to talk about it to any of the other kids. And none of them had ever asked him about it…

Harry frowned. He knew it had been in this drawer. He had seen it there only… good grief, when _had_ he last had this drawer open. He couldn't remember. It must be years. But he was quite sure it had been this drawer. It was his locked drawer, the one he never went into. Why else would he have locked it, if not to keep the map safe? And the lock had spells over it that would not be broken by a simple _Relashio_.

But the drawer was most definitely empty.

* * *

It was the first evening of the Christmas holidays, and the dining room of the Scamanders' house in Hogsmeade was packed with people. Luna and Rolf were enjoying playing host (their guests had been relieved to find that the cooking had been done by Rolf, as they had all experienced Luna's cooking in the past), and the children were noisy and exuberant after being released from school. The meal had been excellent (Rolf was a surprisingly good cook), and everybody was feeling pleasantly full.

Ginny, Angelina and James were having a heated discussion about Quidditch, and George could be heard telling Ron of some business deal he had recently concluded, with his son Fred, Roxy's older brother, listening in quietly. Hermione and Percy were arguing good-naturedly about something at the Ministry. Various other, quieter conversations were going on around the room. Lucy, Alice and the twins had vacated the table, and the girls were enjoying playing with the two little boys, who were entertaining young things.

So far, the only impression the adults had from the older children was that Al was being rather quiet (but then, he often was) and that Rose and James seemed to have had a falling out (again, nothing particularly unusual).

"So, Dad," Rose made the most of a pause in her father's conversation with her Uncle George, and leaned towards him, "How come you and Uncle Harry were snooping around Hogwarts yesterday?"

It was amazing, Harry thought, how quickly the room fell silent. Rose's voice was clear and carrying, and everyone had heard her question, to his annoyance. Trust Rose to have somehow spotted them; he had thought that they had been very careful, but Rose's eyes were sharper than most. She wanted to be an Auror herself, and she would certainly pass her observation skills tests. Seeing things other people did not was something she had inherited from her mother, he thought. "Don't be ridiculous, Rosie," Ron told his daughter, "We weren't snooping around. We went for a walk up that way, and dropped in to see Neville, that's all." He shot a glance at Neville, relying on his old friend to back this fiction up.

Rose raised her eyebrows, clearly not believing a word.

"Oh. So it's a secret?"

Harry decided to intervene.

"Work stuff, I'm afraid, Rosie," he said firmly, "And we can't tell you. You're not an Auror yet, you know."

Rose fell silent, but her brother took up the argument.

"Work stuff at Hogwarts?" he looked eagerly at his father and uncle, "Is it to do with what happened to Meri?"

Damn. Harry had forgotten than Hugo had been one of the people questioned by Aurors after that incident. He knew that they were taking it seriously.

"Stop asking questions, Hugo," Hermione interrupted firmly, "If Uncle Harry says he can't tell us, he can't tell us. You know that." It was tactful of her to say 'us,' Harry thought, since she and Ginny knew more or less everything anyway.

"'Fraid your Mum's right," Harry said cheerfully, and then changed the subject to something else he wanted to talk about, letting his eyes drift thoughtfully around the table, "Now that I've got everybody's attention, though... There was something I wanted to ask you kids. I don't know how many of you know of a… map that I own. A bit of a special map."

He looked around him. There was surprise on most people's faces, but no blankness, except for Rolf Scamander and his sons. It seemed that everyone in the family knew about the map, he thought resignedly. Even Lucy and Alice, for goodness' sake, whose small faces were turned up to him from their current position on the floor. So they all knew about it. Not so surprising really. More surprising if it had still been a secret, considering that both George and Teddy knew all about it.

"Right," he said, "From everybody's expressions, you all know. But what I wanted to know…" he kept his voice and face passive, but he was watching each and every one of his children, nieces and nephews very carefully. Any of them could have had the opportunity; they had all been in his house often enough. Even Teddy… he sincerely hoped that, at twenty four, Teddy would not be taking things out of his drawers these days, but he had no idea how long the map might have been gone for.

"I'm not going to say anything about it," he continued, "I'm not interested in blaming or punishing anybody. But I'd like to know who took it out of my drawer."

He had been watching for reactions, and he wasn't disappointed. Fred's face was a blank, Al and Rose remained impassive, Roxy was staring at the table cloth, but Molly, Lily and Hugo… those three heads all instinctively snapped one way. And looked at James.

Harry's gaze rested on his eldest son, who was glaring at the three who had given him away. He caught his father's eye and went red, but he tried to pass it off.

"Um… yeah," he said, his voice forcedly light, "That might have been me…"

Nobody had noticed two small, stricken people on the floor, who were gazing at one another in horror. The attention was all on Harry and James.

"You've got the map? _The_ map?" Teddy sounded outraged.

"It was years ago!" James said defiantly, "I mean, I thought you didn't even want it any more!"

"You mean you thought I'd never notice it had gone," said Harry dryly, "Well, I have noticed. And I'm not going to start recriminations for something that happened years ago. We'll say no more about it, Jamie. But I'd like it back now, please."

James looked faintly horrified.

"Um… yeah…" he said again, "Er… about that… actually, I haven't got it any more."

"_James_!" Rosie sounded incredulous, forgetting in the heat of the moment that she was not talking to her cousin, "I _saw _you with it the other week…" she trailed off at James' look, "What's that look supposed to mean? _I_ haven't pinched it off you!" her eyes sharpened at the expression on his face, "Someone _has_ pinched it, haven't they?"

James looked wretchedly at his father, swallowed, and nodded.

"It was really recently," he insisted, "Just a few weeks ago. I had it up until then. It was in my trunk…" he looked at Rose again, calculatingly, but read nothing but blank astonishment in her eyes, so he looked suspiciously at Albus.

"Don't look at me," Al said, raising his eyebrows and speaking coldly, "_I_ haven't got it. If I'd wanted it, I could have taken it off you at any point in the last four years. I certainly wouldn't take it now."

James' eyes went back to Rose, who scowled at him.

"You think it was _me_? Well, it wasn't. I haven't got it. It could have been anybody…"

"No, it couldn't," argued James, with a scowl, "How many people would dare to poke around in my trunk? Other than you lot…"

"Um…" the voice was very small, but in the quiet room, everybody heard. They all turned and found a pink-faced Lucy Weasley, standing facing them all.

"Um…" said Lucy again, "It might… just possibly… have been… us."

"Lucy!" exclaimed Percy.

James' mouth dropped open.

"_You_?" he said incredulously. In the silence that followed, James looked back at Rose and Al. Rose glared at him.

"Looks like you owe yet another apology, Jamie," she remarked, with false sweetness.

"Indeed," Harry agreed, with amusement, although he shot a sharp glance between James and Rose, as if noticing that there was something more than usual happening between them. James, however, was currently immune to Rose's needling, as all his attention was focussed on Lucy.

"_You_ took it?" he exploded, "you little…"

"James," Harry interrupted firmly, "I don't think you can say anything about taking maps that don't belong to you. I said there were going to be no recriminations, and there aren't," he glanced at Percy, who looked as though he might have been going to scold his daughter, and then at Lucy, "I'm not going to say anything, and neither is anyone else. I'd just like it back please, Lucy."

"I… I…" Lucy floundered desperately. She didn't want to get anyone into trouble, and now she came to think of it, she didn't know _who _had the thing.

"She hasn't got it," said Alice, suddenly. Everybody turned and looked at her, and she went red.

"I see," said Harry, in measured tones, "When you said _us_, Lucy, you meant…?"

"Me as well," said Alice firmly, "And the others."

"And who has it now?" Harry asked Lucy gently.

Lucy looked stumped.

"I don't know. _I_ haven't seen it since the day we took it, and that was back in October. It was the same day as the first Hogsmeade trip. We were… sort of bored, and Jake Nelson was asking about secret passages, so I told them about the map. And we went and stole it while everyone was in Hogsmeade. We were going to put it back… but then… lots of things happened that day, and I forgot all about it."

Various people in the room remembered that day vividly. Harry looked as though he might be beginning to lose patience.

"And you don't know what happened to it?"

"Well, we never put it back, so _someone_ took it," Lucy looked at Alice, "Who was it? D'you remember?"

Alice nodded.

"Um… yeah. It was Issie…"

"_What_?" James exploded, "You mean my map – _the_ map I mean," he glanced quickly at his father, then returned to the issue in hand, "_Iseult Malfoy _has the Marauder's Map?"

Harry looked rather serious.

"The map has gone to the Malfoys' home?"

"Oh no," Alice was looking relieved, "Mrs Malfoy… well, she's not very well, so Issie's staying at Hogwarts for a few days. She's only up at the castle. I can go and get the map off her tomorrow."

"Wait a minute," Ron said, frowning, "I'm missing something here. What was the Malfoy girl doing with you?"

"Oh, Ron, for goodness' sake!" exclaimed Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"She's my friend," said Alice, a little defiantly, with a glance at James.

There was a short silence in the room.

"She's a really nice kid, actually," said Lily, in such a vague tone of voice that her mother shot her a suspicious look. Even Lily wasn't that vague.

"Oh yes," James sneered slightly, "I forgot; she _loves_ you, doesn't she? I'm surprised it doesn't get a bit annoying, having her trailing round after you with those puppy-dog eyes…"

"She doesn't!" said Alice, indignantly.

"Well, you'd know, James," retorted Lily, "seeing as half the school wanders round like that after you. But actually, Alice is right. Issie doesn't follow me at all. All I said was, she's a nice kid, and there's nothing wrong with Alice being friends with her."

Ron looked at his niece with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you getting so pally with the Malfoys recently, Lil?" he asked, suspiciously, "At the beginning of term, you were saying young Scorpius wasn't so bad …"

"Ron," said Hermione, in a warning voice.

"I'm not just being prejudiced, Hermione," said Ron quickly, "There are things… you know what I'm talking about."

"I'm afraid Lily's right," Neville Longbottom spoke suddenly, with uncharacteristic firmness, "Whatever we may have thought, or still think, about her father, Iseult Malfoy is a very nice child. And a Gryffindor, which ought to tell you something about her, I think."

Lily looked around the table, begging her brothers and cousins with her eyes not to say anything about the rumours that had gone round about her and Malfoy. Rose smirked, and James looked as though he might be going to speak, but Harry got there first.

"Well, Alice, if you can get it back for me tomorrow, we'll say no more about it, okay? And that goes for all of the rest of you as well," he looked around sternly, his eyes lingering specifically on James, whom he thought might kick up a fuss at the idea of Iseult Malfoy having been in his trunk.

They all nodded reluctantly, then James' eyes narrowed. As the conversations in the room started up again, albeit in a more subdued manner, he looked suspiciously at Lucy and Alice.

"Hey… did you take anything _else_ out of my trunk?"

Lucy smirked at him.

"Oh yes, there was one other thing. I took that. But I don't want it; you can have it back. I can go and get it for you now if you want…"

"No!" exclaimed James, with a reflexive glance at his mother, "I mean… not now, Lucy. I'll get it off you later, okay?"

He looked threateningly at her, and she satisfied herself with another smirk, determining not to let James catch her by herself these holidays. She didn't want to lose that piece of bargaining power.

* * *

They woke next morning to find that it had snowed overnight. There was a white pristine coating over every surface; not very deep, but enough that only the odd sprig of heather poked through, and Hogsmeade had turned into a Christmas card village. As the first day of the holidays, most people had slept in, and Alice left everyone finishing breakfast as she set off up to the castle to retrieve the map.

Some time later, Rose looked out of the window. She gazed in silence for a few moments at the sight in front of her, then looked round, her expression carefully neutral.

"Just to warn you," she announced impassively, "But Alice has brought a visitor."

Those who were close enough turned to look out of the window. Others moved across to see what the fuss was about. There was a short silence.

Outside the Scamanders' front gate, two small girls were standing, warmly dressed in coats, scarves and hats. They appeared to be arguing. The taller and sturdier of the two had the other by the hand and was attempting to tug her through the gate. The smaller and skinnier one was resisting, although she seemed to be weakening. As they watched, she gave in and allowed herself to be pulled, albeit reluctantly, through the gate and up the path.

Luna was in the kitchen as the door opened, and she looked up at the sound, smiling her vague smile at the two girls who came through it.

"Oh, hello. You must be Iseult..."

"Yes, this is her," Alice jumped in hurriedly, "Issie, this is Luna Scamander, who's one of my mum and dad's friends. This is her house," she turned to Luna, her eyes wide and pleading, "Luna, can Issie please please come for lunch? She's all by herself up at the castle..."

"It's okay," Issie said quickly, before Luna could speak, "I don't need to. It's fine..."

"No, no," Luna smiled at the little girl, "Of course you must stay. We love having visitors."

The listeners in the lounge exchanged dismayed glances. Harry, walking through the door, looked around in surprise.

"What's the matter with you all?"

James and Rose exchanged dark looks, for once united in their distrust of the Malfoys, but it was Albus who broke the news in his typically calm way.

"Iseult Malfoy is coming for lunch."

* * *

Issie had not wanted to come. She was not stupid, and she knew that a Malfoy would definitely be an unwelcome addition to a gathering of Weasleys, Potters, Longbottoms and their friends. But Alice, in her friendly enthusiasm, was extremely persuasive, and if Issie was honest, it _was_ lonely up at the castle. Scorpius was there too of course, but she could not tag after him all the time. His friend Danny had also stayed at school for the first few days, partly to keep Scorpius company and partly because he did not get on with his own family, and while Danny had always been nice to her, Issie had grown a little more independent since coming to Hogwarts, and no longer felt comfortable attaching herself to her brother and his friends. There were no other Gryffindors near her age, or anyone else she really knew, and the time was already hanging heavily on her hands by the time Alice appeared, although it was only mid morning.

She had been dismayed at the garbled story her friend had spilled out excitedly. She, Alice and Jake had explored several of the secret passages marked on the map, and she thought they probably knew most of the entrances by heart now, so losing the map was not the greatest of her worries, although it was a blow. She could not believe that she was not going to be in serious trouble for stealing the Potters' precious map, although she had not realised until now that it technically belonged to _Harry_ Potter, not James. But even if Mr Potter was not going to be angry with her, James Potter certainly would be. It would have been different if Lucy had taken it; Lucy was family. Or even Alice, who was almost as good as. But Issie had simply calmly appropriated it for herself... She thought apprehensively of her next meeting with James Potter.

And yet, somehow, she had found herself born on Alice's determination, out of Hogwarts and down towards Hogsmeade, accompanied by constant assurances that 'nobody would mind.' Issie was far less convinced of this than Alice was, and when they reached the gate she almost rebelled, and would have turned back for the castle had Alice not caught her by the hand and practically dragged her inside.

The lady with the long blonde hair and the floaty blue dress was friendly enough (although a little odd and vague), but then she was not apparently a Potter or a Weasley, and Issie had only heard the name Scamander in association with magical beasts; she knew nothing about the current Scamanders. Which probably meant that her family would not really approve of them, but Issie was caring less and less about that.

But then Alice was pulling her through the kitchen and into a living room full of people, many of whom were familiar, but many of whom were also complete strangers. There was a short silence, during which Issie was very glad of Alice standing beside her. Then Lily smiled at her from across the room.

"Hey, Issie!"

The silence broken, Alice stepped forwards.

"I invited her for lunch," her voice was slightly defiant, "Luna said it's okay..."

"Of course it is!" a tall man with grey hair and a beard said in friendly tones, apparently oblivious to the tension in the room, "Can't have you mouldering away by yourself up in that castle," he smiled at her, and held out a hand, "Rolf Scamander."

Shyly, Issie put her hand in his.

"Iseult Malfoy," she introduced herself in a whisper.

"Pleased to meet you, Iseult," a man whom Issie knew instantly must be Harry Potter said briskly. She couldn't tell whether he was really pleased or not, but if not, then he was hiding it. And she had something to give him.

Pulling the parchment out from under her coat, she held it out to him.

"I'm sorry I took it," he said quietly, taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes, "I didn't mean to steal it."

For a moment, he looked steadily at her. Then he smiled, slightly grimly.

"Don't worry about it. You're not the only one to blame, by the story I heard. And you're not the first one to steal that map either. It has a long history of being misappropriated..."

He took the map from her, and she could not help feeling a pang of regret. It had been a valuable possession and she wished that she was capable of making something like that herself. The map's makers must have been talented wizards indeed...

Before she could think about it too long, an elderly woman was stepping forwards from the crowd. She wore robes in the old style, as Issie's grandparents did, and Issie realised with a shock that there was something decidedly familiar about her face. She was smiling, but there was another emotion in her eyes, although Issie wasn't entirely sure what it was. It was strong though, almost as if the woman might cry...

"Iseult Malfoy..." she said, trying Issie's name out thoughtfully. She put her hand under Issie's chin and tilted her face up, examining her careuflly. Startled, Issie met her gaze.

"We've never met," the woman said abruptly, "But I'm your Great Aunt Andromeda. Your grandmother's sister."

Issie stared at her, certain things clicking into place. Of course. That was why the woman was familiar, and yet not familiar. She looked like some of the portraits in Issie's grandparents' house. She had heard of her Great Aunt Andromeda; she knew that her grandmother had some contact with her sister, although they weren't close, and Issie had never met her.

There had been a startled silence in the room at Andromeda's words, then Harry laughed slightly forcedly.

"Of course. I forgot you two were related."

Someone else laughed too, and Issie looked round to find herself looking at a pleasant-faced young man with – astonishingly – turquoise hair, who, like the first man, held out his hand to her.

"And on that note, I'm your cousin Teddy. Nice to meet you – Issie, is it? I met your brother a few times when he was little, but I've never met you..." he winked at her, "Glad I'm no longer the only grandchild of a Black sister to end up in Gryffindor..."

Issie stared at him, open-mouthed. She had heard of her cousin Teddy too, although she had entirely forgotten about his existence. The last thing she had expected, coming here, was to find long lost relatives of her own... But his words gave her a flood of warmth. She wasn't entirely alone after all. There had been other members of her family in Gryffindor too. Not Malfoys, perhaps, but members of the family nonetheless.

"You don't look like a Malfoy," Andromeda commented thoughtfully, "That dark hair... more like a Black. Your grandmother was the odd one out there – the rest of us were all dark. You've got blue eyes like her though – but not the same shade..."

"I look like my mum" Issie informed her, "She's got dark hair, and my eyes are the same colour as hers too."

"Ah yes," Andromeda shot her a curious look, "And how _is_ your mother...?"

Issie hesitated, staring at her great aunt. She still wasn't sure if she was supposed to be telling people about the baby. Her father had said she wasn't to talk about it while the baby was still in hospital, but he was getting out of hospital today, so surely it was okay... She was desperate to talk about it and tell people... Anyway it sounded almost as if her great aunt already knew.

As if she had read her thoughts, Andromeda spoke gently.

"I know about the situation, dear. Narcissa told me some time ago."

"What situation?" Lucy demanded, evidently feeling that she had been left out of the conversation for quite long enough. Issie flushed.

"Don't be nosy, Luce," Teddy said easily, but Issie shook her head.

"No, it's okay. I don't think it's a secret any more," she looked at Lucy, "My mum had a baby. It was in October, but we didn't tell anyone, because he nearly died, and my mum was really ill... But they're okay now." At least, so her father said. She still hadn't heard anything directly from her mother, and it was odd that she and Scorp weren't allowed to come straight home. But she trusted her father to tell her if anything was seriously wrong.

There were shocked faces all around the room. Lily was not surprised of course, and neither was Professor Longbottom, who had come quietly in while they were talking, and Great Aunt Andromeda had apparently known all about it, but everyone else was surprised to some degree. James Potter's mouth had fallen open, and then he looked suddenly thoughtful, as if an idea had occurred to him that wasn't quite comfortable.

"Well, I'm very glad she's doing better," Andromeda broke the slightly awkward silence with a smile, and there were agreeing murmurs from the other adults, "And I expect you're looking forward to meeting your baby brother, are you?"

After a few more questions and comments, the conversation moved on, and the ice was broken. Issie was still reserved and slightly shy, but the presence of members of her family had given her confidence, and she joined in happily with Alice and Lucy's chatter, and made the acquaintance of Lorcan and Lysander, and Lysander's collection of spiders (Ron Weasley hurriedly left the room at this point), and by lunch time, was feeling almost at home here...

The snow had started again shortly after Alice and Issie arrived, but stopped by the time they were finished with lunch, leaving an even thicker layer of gleaming white. The five youngest children spilled out of doors to play in it, but the older ones were not long in following, and it was Hugo who suggested a snowball fight, and James (predictably) who added the idea of a snowball fight on broomsticks.

Teams were divided quickly. Most people were up for joining in, with a few exceptions. Rose absented herself with the same speed and skill as her father had done when faced with the spiders, as soon as brooms were mentioned, and none of her cousins commented – they all knew that Rose suffered from vertigo, but they also knew better than to mention the fact.

It was Lily who said, "Are you playing, Al?" but it was James who turned and waited for an answer, a strange expression on his face as he looked at his brother, as if he was trying to say something important without actually saying it. The others waited silently. This was James' game, and he was organising it, and nobody had seen him and Al exchange so much as a look or a word since the night of the party. Albus met his brother's gaze, and for a moment he hesitated, seeing the unspoken words in James' face.

Then the shutters came down again, he shook his head briefly and turned away.

"Nah, not just now. I'll go and keep Rose company." And he was gone, into the house.

A flash of something like disappointment, or even regret, crossed James' face, but he quickly pulled himself together and turned back to the matter in hand. Fred had deigned to join them, despite his mature nineteen years of age, and he, James and Lily were decidedly the best fliers, with Hugo coming after them. The teams were eventually decided, with Fred, Molly, Lily, Lucy, Issie and Lorcan on one team, and James, Roxanne, Hugo, Alice's brother Aidan, Lucy, Alice and Lysander on the other, spare brooms were summoned for those without them, and the game was under way.

It was a glorious, riotous affair, and Issie entirely forgot where she was and who with and had a wonderful time. She even forgot her fear and dislike of James Potter in the game, and he in turn appeared to have laid aside the fact that she was a Malfoy. Perhaps, she thought, it had something to do with her being Teddy's cousin, for they all seemed very fond of the turquoise-haired young man.

At one point, Fred paused beside James (having just got his younger cousin in the face with a large snowball), and glanced over at Iseult.

"That kid can fly," he commented briefly.

James, shaking snow out of his hair, blinked at her for a moment, as if seeing her for the first time. He was just in time to see Hugo send a snowball flying her way; she spun her broom and dodged it easily, diving down to skim the ground and scoop up a handful herself, to fling at Alice, shrieking with laughter. There was an effortless quality to the way she manoeuvred her broom that suggested she was as comfortable in the air as she was on the ground.

"Yeah..." he agreed neutrally, "I suppose she can."

The game ended in a truce, because nobody was quite sure how the score was being kept, and there did not seem to be any clear winners, but by the time they all trooped in, nobody appeared to have remembered that Iseult was an outsider.

She stayed for dinner, and nobody blinked an eye.


	13. Christmas and New Year

**A/N: My chapters appear to be getting longer - I'm not sure if that's good or bad... Thanks to everyone who reviewed - I'm sorry, I don't have time to list you all by name, but virtual mince pies for you all!**

**This is probably my last update before Christmas, so I hope everyone who celebrates it has a good one!**

* * *

All in all, it was a difficult homecoming. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the baby. It was weird, having a new sibling when you were sixteen. He had said nothing of his uncertain feelings, because it would only have upset things unnecessarily, and Scorpius did not like unnecessary upsets. Iseult was happy and excited, and he wanted her to stay that way. No need for her to know that the idea of the huge disruption to their family - the immense, irrevocable change - made Scorpius feel worried and disturbed. He could remember a time before Iseult, but not clearly. For twelve years, their family had remained constant and stable. Now everything was going to be different.

He had to admit to himself, though, that looking at his baby brother for the first time was something quite special. The baby had a shock of dark hair, and eyes of an indeterminate blueish colour, like a kitten that has first opened its eyes. So, Scorpius thought, his brother was going to be dark like Iseult and their mother, not fair like the males of the family, unless his hair lightened drastically. What else he was going to look like was impossible to say; he simply looked like new baby, or so Scorpius thought, although when his grandparents came to visit, his grandmother remarked that the child looked just like a Black.

His name was Caelum; Draco Malfoy had allowed Astoria to name their second child, which had resulted in Iseult Daphne, but it was back to the traditional constellation names for the third. He had Lucius for a middle name, which Scorpius thought was unfortunate for the poor kid. He didn't admire his grandfather, who still stuck to his old pureblood principles, although they were sounding more and more worn out and ridiculous the longer he kept harping on about them. As well as that issue, there was also the annoying fact that any visit to or from their grandparents meant an inquisition for Scorpius – how was he getting on at school, what were his marks like, what were his plans afterwards, did he have a girlfriend? Scorpius bore it as patiently as he could, because he had no wish to anger his grandfather, who could turn nasty, but he disliked it intensely. Iseult escaped on the grounds that she was younger, and a girl, but Scorpius knew that ructions would come as she grew up. Their grandparents – well, their grandfather at least – would want to stick to the traditional pureblood ways, and would expect Iseult to marry well and settle down as soon as possible. Scorpius suspected that Issie would have different ideas.

That was a long way off yet though, and for Caelum, it would be an even longer time before he had to face the expectations of the Malfoy family. Just now, the preoccupation was with him, which Scorpius thought was lucky, because otherwise there might have been a lot more of a fuss made about Iseult being in Gryffindor. Their grandfather was noticeably stiff with his granddaughter and evidently considered that she had betrayed her upbringing, but he largely ignored her, which was not really any change from normal. Lucius Malfoy was one of those men who believed that boys were of far more importance than girls, which at the moment was working to Issie's advantage.

Their mother was far more of a concern to Scorpius. He had expected her to look weakened, as if she had been ill, but he had not expected her to look so wasted, or so haunted. He did not believe that she was as fully recovered as she pretended, and she certainly was not mentally recovered. She was vague and abstracted and never smiled, none of which was like his mother. She was naturally serious, but in the past, she had always had a smile for her husband and children.

Hazel confirmed this impression by asking instantly after his mother when she first saw him, a concerned look in her eyes. When he questioned her, she admitted that she had met Astoria in the street the other day, and had been worried by how ill she still looked.

"I know," Scorpius looked at the ground, unable to meet her eyes and let her see how anxious he was, "But she _has_ been ill... she's bound to be weak..."

"I suppose so," Hazel agreed doubtfully, hesitating on the edge of saying more, but in the end keeping her mouth shut. How, after all, did you say to your friend that you thought his mum might have depression, especially when you were hardly an expert yourself? Hazel was by no means sure of her ground – and she had very little to base her concerns on. One meeting, that was all, and everyone had bad days. As Scorpius had said, his mum had been ill, and she had a new baby to look after too. It was no wonder she was tired and stressed...

Instead, she moved on to other topics of conversation, and they caught each other up about the other happenings of the term. Scorpius heard about life in the 6th Form, and AS Levels, and the fact that Anna and Matt – two of Hazel's friends he had met a few times – were going out, and that a couple of boys in Year 13 had been excluded for handing out ecstasy tablets at the Christmas Ball, something that had scandalised small, quiet Mirlton. And Hazel heard about 6th Year, and NEWTs, and the postponed Quidditch match, and Xanthe Derrick's annoying habit of spreading untrue rumours – he only touched very lightly on what those rumours were, but Hazel picked up on it, and her eyebrows shot up in amusement, although she said nothing immediately – and the story that had spread round school that James Potter had snogged his brother's girlfriend at a party. Hazel looked disgusted at this piece of news.

"Jesus. What a complete prick that guy is. And the girl sounds like a slag. What's his brother like?"

Scorpius shrugged.

"Oh... he's okay, kind of. I mean, we don't really talk, but he's nothing like James."

Hazel looked thoughtfully at her friend for a few moments.

"So..." she said at last, her voice so deceptively innocent that Scorpius shot her a suspicious glance at once, "You and Lily Potter..."

Scorpius groaned.

"_'Me and Lily Potter'_ doesn't even exist, Hazel! Honestly – it's bad enough having everyone saying it at school without coming home to have _you_ saying it as well! I hardly know the girl, and I _definitely_ don't fancy her."

He spoke firmly, and Hazel heard a ring of truth in his voice that made her look at him with something approaching disappointment. Scorpius rarely talked to her about girls, and she never quite knew whether he was as indifferent as he pretended to be, or whether he just didn't tell her. She suspected the latter, since he was a healthy teenage boy, and she was pretty sure he'd have told her by now if he was gay. And she had to admit that she would have been slightly amused to see something happening between him and the sister of the guy who had been his arch enemy since the day he started at Hogwarts – although less amused if it had got him beaten up, she thought, looking at both sides of the situation.

"You're not even a little bit interested, then?" she persisted, searching his face carefully for hints of a lie.

"Nope," he told her lightly, "She's an okay kid, from the _one single_ conversation I've had with her, and she's been nice to Issie. That's it. Those aren't enough to make me fancy her, not even a little bit."

Hazel dropped it, and resolved to try and see what Issie thought of the whole thing. Instead, she turned to face Scorpius fully, finally getting onto the thing that had been on her mind for a while.

"Scorpius... why won't you tell me what happened to Fiona Murphy?"

He looked at her, surprise and alarm registering on his face.

"Hazel, I told you. It's not that I won't tell you – I don't_ know_ what happened to her! It sounds from what you said that she had the Imperius Curse put on her, but I don't know any more than that. I only know that it was in our newspaper, but they didn't give any details – I got those from you. And I haven't even spoken to Mum about it – I can't, not with the way she is..." he broke off and began again, "I wrote to her and Dad, but it was Dad who wrote back, and you know what he's like. He wouldn't tell me anything, except that Mum had been there when the kid started acting weird, so she was a witness to it. That's all I know. That's all _anyone_ knows, except the Aurors..."

"The who?"

"The Aurors," Scorpius looked uncertain, "I told you about them, right? They're sort of... detectives, I suppose. The really top ones. They investigate serious cases of dark magic, and catch dark wizards" he hesitated, "The Potters' dad's head of the Department."

"Oh. Wow," Hazel looked surprised and faintly impressed by this news, but didn't comment any further, "So, this imperius curse is serious dark magic then?"

"Yes," Scorpius admitted, "It's one of the Unforgivable Curses. There are only three of them, and I suppose in some ways it's the least serious of them, but it can be used for things that are just as bad... it all depends." He had already told her what the Imperius Curse actually did, so there was no need to repeat that. They were silent for a few moments, both thinking of Fiona Murphy, and the dark magic that had been cast on her. Hazel found it slightly scary that there was – or had been – someone actually here, in safe little Mirlton, who would do that sort of thing to an ordinary schoolgirl who had never hurt anyone.

"Why would someone do that?" she asked eventually.

"I don't know," Scorpius replied, "But it's not the only weird thing to happen this term. There was some story that someone was trying to break into Hogwarts or something. A girl got taken to St Mungo's – that's the hospital. But nobody really knows what happened." He decided not to mention that the girl in question was Lily Potter's best friend, because that would only start Hazel on about Lily again.

"Oh," Hazel digested this information, "Why did she get taken to hospital? What happened to her?"

Scorpius shrugged.

"Nobody really knows, unless her friends do, but if they do, they're not telling. She caught the people who were trying to break in – or else they caught her, I'm not sure. But she can't remember any of it, because they modified her memory."

"Well, maybe it was your Ministry then," Hazel remarked, a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice, "They seem to like 'modifying' memories."

"They couldn't help it, Haze," he said with reproach, part of him wondering why he was defending the Ministry, "They had to get things under control. Loads of people had seen the kid..."

Hazel shook her head, but didn't argue, because her mind had gone onto something else.

"Why didn't they modify _my_ memory?" she asked, "I mean, I remember it all... at least, I think I do. But how would I know? They _didn't_ modify my memory, did they?" she looked horrified at this idea.

Scorpius shook his head.

"I don't know. _I_ don't know whose memories the Ministry's modified – amazingly, they don't actually tell me," he commented with a roll of his eyes, "But if they had, you wouldn't remember _any_ of it, so they can't have done. They wouldn't have known you knew," he hesitated, "I never told anyone that you knew anything. I told Mum and Dad I'd just read it in the paper."

"But then why did they find the video and wipe it?" she demanded.

"I don't know. They'd have been at work all the time though, tracking down the people who knew anything. They must just have caught up with it..."

"Well, anyway," Hazel changed the subject slightly, "Someone trying to break into a school in the Scottish Highlands isn't likely to have any connection to someone casting evil spells on a kid in Lancashire, is it?"

Scorpius could only agree with this, although it seemed to him that it was a bit of a coincidence to have two quite major pieces of dark magic performed so close together in time.

"And talking of your school," Hazel went on, "You never answered me. Is Hogwarts anywhere close to Kilmary? Because I'm going to be staying there next term..."

"I didn't answer you because I didn't know," Scorpius told her, "The only place I know near Hogwarts is Hogsmeade but you won't find that on a Muggle map either. Or on any kind of map – they're unplottable, so _we_ can't put them on a map either. But I found some things out," he went on, although she had opened her mouth to speak, "I asked a guy in the Hog's Head, who lives in Hogsmeade. He said that Kilmary's the next village – you can see the lights of it from Hogsmeade, although they can't see our lights. I'm not sure exactly how far it is, but not far," he cast her a suspicious look, an accusing note coming into his voice, "How did you know?" Her face was an innocent mask, which only made him more suspicious – somehow, he didn't know how, she _had_ known, or at least suspected. This wasn't altogether a coincidence.

Hazel had never had many secrets from Scorpius, and anyway, by the expression on his face, he'd rumbled her. So she gave in with a sigh.

"I didn't know. But fine, I guessed," she shrugged and shot him a glance, "It wasn't that hard actually. Seems like your methods of keeping Muggles away aren't as effective as you all thought. But then, I don't suppose anyone's ever tried to work it out before, at least not since they had access to OS maps and Google... Not that it would do me much good," she pointed out, "Because even if I worked out exactly where it was – and I didn't, only roughly – I still wouldn't be able to see it," she looked carefully at him, "Are you pissed off with me?"

There was a moment's silence, then Scorpius sighed.

"No. But just be careful, okay? Because if anyone finds out how much you know, I'll be the one in the shit."

Hazel paused. She hadn't really thought of that when she did her detective work.

"But at least..." she said hopefully, "If I'm that close, at least we can meet up, can't we?"

* * *

Hazel was invited back to dinner, to meet Caelum properly and see Iseult. Astoria Malfoy gave permission for this with a distinct lack of interest, which was odd, because she liked Hazel. By the time Draco found out, the invitation had already been made, and all he could do was sniff disapprovingly. He had got used to the idea of Hazel coming to his house, because he had realised long ago that he could not keep her and Scorpius apart, but he detested having to pretend to be a Muggle. This amused his son, because of course, the pretence was unnecessary; Hazel knew all about him being a wizard, Draco just didn't know this.

Aunt Daphne, who had been staying when they arrived back from school, had gone home again, to Scorpius' relief. Not that he didn't like her; Daphne was childless herself, and had always spoiled her niece and nephew, and they were fond of her. But lately, Scorpius had been unable not to see other sides to his aunt than the doting, fun one. She had a hard streak to her, which she often showed to those outside the family, and she was a blood purist. That realisation had made him uneasy. Not that his father wasn't technically one too, but his father kept his beliefs quiet, and limited them to disapproving sniffs when he had to play host to a Muggle girl. Aunt Daphne's were much stronger, and last summer, he had met some of her friends and disliked them automatically.

They were his father's old school friends too, but Draco Malfoy didn't really keep in touch with anyone from his Hogwarts days, other than Calypso's father, and a man called Greg Goyle, whom his father seemed to grudgingly pity more than anything, because the man was an alcoholic and couldn't hold down a job, despite having a wife and small child to support. Scorpius also pitied the Goyles, although he pitied Opal and Adelaide more than Greg. He suspected – and thought his father did too – that Greg Goyle was violent when he was drunk.

Aunt Daphne's association with other people from his father's murkier past, however, made Scorpius uncomfortable, and he suspected that it made his mother uncomfortable too, although she never said anything. Just now, though, she did not appear either pleased or displeased to have Aunt Daphne staying. His father clearly disliked it, and wanted privacy, but Daphne was his wife's sister, so there was little that he could say; he merely looked relieved when she finally departed. Scorpius was also relieved; he didn't think he'd want to invite Hazel round when Aunt Daphne was there.

Although she was technically Scorpius' guest, Hazel made sure that she got a chance to corner Iseult after dinner.

"So, how's Hogwarts?" she demanded. Issie, who had known for some time that Hazel was in on their secret, grinned shyly at her.

"Good," she said, "But it's nice to be home..."

Hazel nodded. "I bet it is," she shot the younger girl a curious glance, "You're okay, being in a different house from Scorp then?"

"Yes," Issie nodded, "It was weird at first, but I'm used to it now. And Gryffindor's great!"

"They don't pick on you there?" Hazel queried, although she didn't think Issie would be sounding so enthusiastic if they did.

"No. James Potter's always horrible to Scorpius, but he leaves me alone, and there was one girl in my year who was a bit unfriendly, but she's not any more; we're friends now. And James' sister Lily was really nice to me when Mum was ill..." She paused, not sure whether to say any more. She had not told Scorpius about her trip to the Scamanders' house, and meeting the Potters and Weasleys. Of course, it wouldn't mean a lot to Hazel, who didn't know any of them, but you could never quite rely on Hazel not to repeat things to Scorp...

Hazel, meanwhile, took the opening she had been waiting for.

"Lily Potter... Scorp's sort of friendly with her, isn't he?" That was a definite twisting of what she had heard, but it was as good a way as any to get Iseult talking.

Issie gazed at her, wide eyed and surprised.

"Well... sort of. Not really. Everyone was saying they _fancied_ each other or something," Issie wrinkled her nose in true little-girl fashion at the idea of her elders having romantic feelings, "But Scorp said they didn't – I asked him – and Lily's going out with someone else, I think. Scorpius said it was just someone spreading rumours."

"Hm," Hazel said non-committally, "So, you don't think Scorp likes her then?"

Issie shrugged.

"I don't know. Not like that, I don't think. He said he didn't, anyway, and I never saw them talking to each other. It was just what people were saying."

Thinking that this was too good an opportunity to waste, Hazel tried a different tack.

"What about other girls? D'you think he fancies anyone?" she asked with a grin, "He'll never talk about it, so I never know..."

Issie giggled.

"I don't know. He hangs around with Calypso Zabini all the time, but they're just friends – they always have been. Cal's nice." She tried to think whether she had ever seen Scorpius with any other girls; not that she found it that interesting, but Hazel wanted to know, and she liked Hazel and wanted to please her. However, she could dredge up nothing. Scorpius spent all his time with Danny and Calypso, and she had never observed him talking specially to any other girls. There were the girls on the Quidditch team with him, but Ariadne Nott and Desdemona Dimitar were only third years and too much younger than him, and she was a hundred per cent sure that he didn't like Xanthe Derrick. So she had to answer in the negative. Hazel was disappointed, and had to go away dissatisfied, to muse on the knowledge that if Scorpius had any secrets, he had hidden them far too well.

* * *

Christmas itself passed uneventfully for all families.

In the Scamander house in Hogsmeade, it was as noisy and riotous as a Weasley family Christmas always was. Lorcan and Lysander added satisfactorily to the mix. They were a good few years younger than even Lucy and Alice, but the older ones mostly found them cute and amusing. Lorcan was a quiet child, with a solemn air and his mother's tendency to come out with odd and random pronouncements, which were sometimes nonsensical and sometimes so deep and profound that his listeners were left silenced for a moment. Lysander, on the other hand, was a lively little piece of mischief. Sandy, as he was known (it was the Scottish short form of Alexander, of which Lysander was a version), led everyone a merry dance, and the adults predicted that in a few years time, he would be a very suitable candidate to inherit the mantle of prankster-in-chief, currently still being held by James and Louis. There was plenty of fun and nonsense, piles of presents under the tree, and a huge Christmas dinner that left everyone feeling suitably full.

The Malfoy family Christmas was much quieter, but then, it always was. To the secret relief of both Scorpius and Iseult, they had been spared the usual visit to their grandparents on Christmas Day. Draco said that Astoria needed peace and quiet, and that the baby was much too young for the journey anyway.

It was Christmas Eve when Issie said quietly to her brother, "Scorp... Is Mum _really_ better...?"

Scorpius looked at her quickly.

"What makes you ask that?"

"Well, she doesn't _look_ better," Iseult pointed out, "And she isn't acting normal... She isn't acting like Mum at all." She looked upset at this, and Scorpius tried to think what to say. Issie wasn't a baby any more. She was twelve years old, and old enough to notice things for herself. You couldn't just pretend everything was fine. But at the same time, he didn't want to scare her with his own worries.

"If she wasn't better, St Mungo's wouldn't have discharged her," he said reasonably, "I know she's not completely back to normal, but think about it, Is. She's been really ill, and she's had all the worry of Caelum being ill too. And now she has a new baby to care for, so she doesn't have any time to rest, and get better herself. She's exhausted, and you can't really blame her for not being herself." He made himself sound positive, because that story was what he _hoped_ was the matter. But sometimes he caught a look in his mother's eyes that worried him; she had something on her mind, of that he was sure, and it wasn't just tiredness and weakness.

However, for all that, they managed to have a pleasant Christmas, probably the nicest one they had had for years. Their mother rallied a little for Christmas itself, and Iseult was still young enough to be excited, and it was nice to feel like a family again, even for a short time. It was Caelum's first Christmas, of course, and although he was far too young to appreciate it, Issie enjoyed sharing it with him. Scorpius had still not got used to the fact that this tiny creature, who did nothing but sleep and cry and drink milk and yet was undeniably a small human being, was actually his little brother. He found it more fun than he expected, though, to have a baby in the house, despite the broken nights and the baby sick and the smelly nappies. Hazel teased him when she came round, and called him a born father because he liked to hold his small brother, although she changed her mind when she discovered he had not changed a single nappy. Scorpius ignored her.

New Year was a different matter. Aunt Daphne was having a party, and they had to be there. Astoria made a great effort for the occasion, and looked almost her old self in a simple but elegant blue dress, her hair carefully done for once, and make up on her face. But for Scorpius, it only highlighted the difference in her, because when she was dressed in the way she used to, he could not help noticing her extreme pallor and the hollows in her cheeks. He suspected that his father was thinking the same thing, but Draco Malfoy had learned to hide his thoughts. Issie looked rather subdued before the party, and Scorpius knew that she was not looking forward to being in among the old crowd, almost all Slytherins and ex-Slytherins. The Malfoys had never been the most sociable of families; they had avoided pureblood society whenever they could, which was usually easy, since they were rarely at the top of any guest list. However, when it was their own family throwing the party, it could not be avoided. Scorpius didn't exactly look forward to these occasions himself, but he had learnt how to avoid trouble. Issie, who had not yet learnt this art, would be terrified, he thought to himself.

Caelum was being left with the house elves. Scorpius had been slightly horrified at this plan, and had gone so far as to voice his doubts.

"Are you sure it's okay to leave him?" he had asked, and his father had looked coldly at him.

"If we weren't, we wouldn't be leaving him," he had pointed out, "Please try and trust that your mother and I know what we're doing, Scorpius. We have brought up two children already."

"He'll be fine, darling," Astoria had said, more quietly, "We'll only be a few hours. I don't want to stay late."

Scorpius was not altogether convinced – partly because he didn't think his mother sounded completely convinced herself – but he gave in, thinking that even if it was a bit unfair on Caelum, nothing could actually _happen_ to him – the house elves were perfectly capable creatures, who had often taken care of him and Issie when they were younger.

So he submitted to the inevitable, and found himself arriving with his father (he could not wait for the day when he could Apparate himself and didn't have to rely on side-along, but that would not come for another few months) on the front drive of Aunt Daphne's grand establishment. It was not a manor on the same scale of Malfoy Manor, where Scorpius' grandparents lived, but it was a large, beautiful house. His Greengrass grandparents had lived there, but they had both been dead some years, and of course, Aunt Daphne, as their oldest child, had inherited the house. It seemed ridiculously large for a single woman, although Daphne frequently had guests staying, but Scorpius was inclined to be glad that she chose to stay there, because he would not have wanted to live there himself. Their own house was far more modest, but he liked it; liked its lack of ostentation, and the fact that it was in a Muggle area, which of course had led to his meeting Hazel.

They did not visit Aunt Daphne very often. They didn't visit anyone very often really; they had seen more of their relatives these Christmas holidays than they usually saw of them in a year. Scorpius knew perfectly well all the correct etiquettes for this sort of party – they had been drilled into him as a necessary part of his early education – but he rarely got a chance to practice them, something that he counted as an advantage. His dress robes were stiff and uncomfortable, and he was already thinking longingly of going home again before they had even been graciously ushered inside by their aunt.

He glanced around himself as they entered, and saw many familiar and unwelcome faces. The Notts were here, unsurprisingly; Mrs Nott was one of Aunt Daphne's oldest friends (and also, according to a story Aunt Daphne had once told him, apparently finding it most amusing, his father's ex-girlfriend). He could see Theo Nott in easy conversation with another group of people, at his most affable and charming. Marvolo took after his father, but Scorpius had shared a dormitory with the boy for enough years to know that the charm only went skin-deep for the son. He didn't know Theo well enough to judge whether it went deeper for him, but he guessed not. He could not see his Quidditch team-mate, Ariadne Nott, but he could see the youngest of the family, a thin-faced Second Year by the name of Weylin, hovering by the food table.

Perhaps more surprisingly, the Goyles were also here; or at any rate, Greg Goyle and his wife were. The Goyles were not usually seen at this sort of occasion; according to his father, they had once been a respected pureblood family, but Greg's descent into alcoholism and disrepute after the war had meant that few people chose to be associated with them. Once, when he was much younger, Scorpius had asked why his father kept in touch with Greg, whom he clearly despised, and Draco had merely looked distantly at his son, as if thinking of something else.

"We go back a long way," had been his only explanation.

Greg was sober at the moment, although he had the sagging skin, bloodshot cheeks and yellowing eyes of a much older man than he was. Beside him, his wife Opal was thin and pale and nervous-looking, in a dress that had clearly cost a lot less than most of the others in the room. The Malfoy family had lost a lot of money to the war (where it had gone exactly, Scorpius was not quite sure, although he suspected that a great deal had been given to the Ministry's reconstruction effort, in an attempt to buy back their good name), but they had responded with careful budgeting and steady work, and got on well enough. Greg Goyle had responded by drinking away any coins that came into his hands, and as a result, his family had next to nothing left. Their six-year-old daughter, Adelaide, whom Scorpius knew as an undersized, almost silent child, who always seemed to have her nose in a comic book, did not appear to be here; Scorpius didn't know who could possibly be looking after her (the Goyles had no house elves and no friends), and hoped they hadn't simply left her by herself. It was a surprise to see them here, and he wondered why Aunt Daphne had invited them.

"Hey, Scorp," an amused-sounding voice said quietly behind him, and he spun round to find himself facing someone he was a lot more pleased to see.

"Cal! I didn't know you were coming!" The Zabinis were still on everyone's invite list; they were purebloods, of good standing, and immensely wealthy. However, they did not usually accept invitations; Blaise Zabini was extremely picky about whose company he kept, and large parties were something he usually stayed away from.

Calypso shrugged.

"Nor did I, until a few hours ago. I don't know why we're here; Dad hates half the people in the room. He says they're all dabbling in the Dark Arts, and that sooner or later, the Ministry's going to catch up with them, and anyone associated with them's going to be up shit creek without a paddle. Or words to that effect," she had the good sense to keep her voice very low as she said all this, with another careless shrug that belied her serious words.

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me," Scorpius agreed, with slight amusement, his eyes dwelling on Marvolo Nott, "But I doubt if the Ministry's going to bust up a New Year do. And you shouldn't say things like that here, Cal. Not even quietly..."

"Whatever," she said dismissively, "It's true. Which is why I don't understand why we're here, except that Mum's friends with your Aunt Daphne. Is Danny here?" she changed the subject abruptly.

"I don't know," Scorpius shrugged, "I only just got here. I expect they'd have been invited; Dan's parents are well in with the whole crowd."

"Well, I haven't seen them," Calypso grabbed his arm and began to tow him towards the drinks table, "Come on, get a drink before they realise we're underage. And then let's escape somewhere we won't have to make polite conversation..."

Issie watched Scorpius being pulled away by Calypso, neither of them sparing a glance for her, and felt abandoned. Her parents had moved off to do the proper thing and socialise, her mother giving her a small pat on the head and telling her to go and find her friends.

Issie wasn't sure if she had any friends here any more. Many of the children she had once played with were the same ones that had spent the first part of the term attempting to make her life a misery just because she had been placed in Gryffindor. But then, she had never told her mother about that, so how could she realise? She could see Ebony Montague with a small crowd of others across the other side of the room, and decided that she definitely did not want to encounter Ebony, alone and unsupported as she was. She slunk in the other direction, skirting the edge of the room and trying to keep her parents in view. Aunt Daphne was talking to a short, plump, dark-haired woman with a mean face, whom Issie recognised as Mrs Nott. They seemed to be very friendly, and were shortly joined by a man Issie did not recognise, who said something to make both women laugh.

Issie moved on, and slipped though a door at the bottom of a staircase, which led, she knew, to the next floor and the bedrooms. At least, she thought with some relief, she knew this house, and knew places to get away. She headed up the dark staircase, moving slowly to avoid tripping and falling, for she couldn't see much... and her hand, groping in front of her, touched something soft and warm.

Issie gave a squeak of alarm and jumped backwards, almost falling back down the stairs. The thing she had touched also squeaked and drew back against the bannisters, and as her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, she identified a child with straggling, unkempt hair, clutching some sort of magazine. There was a faint smell, the sickly sweet scent of a child who is not washed quite often enough, mingled with something else that Issie could only liken to the smell of sherbet.

The mixture of the two, though, was familiar, and enough to tell her who it was.

Adelaide Goyle.

"Addy!" Issie exclaimed, peering at the tiny child. The figure stopped trying to wriggle away through the bannisters and stared at her, her eyes huge pools of darkness in her peaky little face.

"Issie?" she whispered.

"Yep, it's me," Issie confirmed. She knew Addy Goyle well enough, and it wasn't too much of a surprise to find her here; Issie had also spotted her parents, and knew that Addy had a habit of hiding in dark corners. She plumped herself down on the stairs beside the kid. Addy wasn't the most wonderful companion, but she seemed better than any of Issie's other options just now.

"What're you reading?" she asked, although 'reading' had to be a stretch, unless Addy could see in the dark.

Addy mumbled something that Issie couldn't hear, but she was used to that, and she didn't bother to push it. She knew from experience that if you tried to get Addy to repeat things, she just seized up.

"That's nice," she said cheerfully instead,"Is it good?"

She guessed that it was a comic. She had never seen Addy reading anything else; the kid was obsessed with Muggle graphic novels, which her mother bought her in desperation, to keep her quiet and out of the way. Issie thought that Addy nodded, although it was hard to tell in the dim light, when Addy's nods were little more than a slight jerk of her head.

At that moment, the door at the bottom of the stairs crashed open, and light flooded in from it. Addy shrank back, blinking like a small owl in the daylight, although Issie didn't think she'd ever seen such a scrawny looking owl. She didn't have much time for this thought, though, because she had seen who was in the doorway, and her heart sank. Ebony Montague and her rabble, and they weren't alone. Iseult wasn't afraid of Ebony and her friends, although she disliked them. The taller figures with them were another matter. Ariadne Nott and Zeno Montague were third years. Zeno was a more aggressive version of his younger sister, and Ariadne was one of Xanthe Derrick's hangers-on.

"Well, look what we've found," Zeno's voice was sneering, "We saw you sneak off in here, Malfoy. Not trying to avoid us, were you?"

Issie met his gaze boldly, refusing to show her fear, and taking comfort from the fact that she was several steps above him.

"Pretty suitable, I'd have said," Ariadne tossed her blonde hair with a giggle, "Sneaking off to hide in the shadows with the scum-baby... Shows where they both belong..."

"Yeah, I don't know why Daphne bothered inviting them," Zeno went on, and Issie scowled at the way he casually used her aunt's first name, as if she was his _friend_... "I mean, everyone knows the Malfoys are just cowards, and as for _them_," he sneered in Addy's direction, "Hey, kid, how much did your dad have to drink before he came out? And where did your mum get her dress..?"

Addy simply stared at him, making no sign that she had even understood that he was talking to her, let alone that she knew what he was saying. Issie, however, jumped to her feet, glaring down at the small group at the bottom of the stairs.

"Leave her alone, she's only little!"

"Oooh, you've got braver since you were a Gryffindor," Ariadne smirked at her.

"Gryffindors aren't braver than anyone else," Zeno said scornfully, "they're just too stupid to be scared. Everyone knows that," he faced Iseult, a nasty grin on his face, "So, Malfoy, if you're so tough... Why haven't you drawn your wand? Or are Gryffindors too _noble_ to fight...?"

Ebony, who had been silent up to now, letting the older two do the talking, gave a sudden loud giggle, and Issie felt her stomach clench. They would not dare to do anything to her... Not in her own aunt's house, with all their parents around... _would_ they? But Zeno had his wand out, and suddenly, Issie wasn't at all sure that they wouldn't do anything to her. Carefully, she moved in front of Addy, her hand going into her pocket and grasping her wand, although she didn't draw it. She was no match for two third years, even if they hadn't had the others with them, but at least she _had_ a wand. Addy was six years old and completely defenceless. From somewhere to her right, she heard Ebony's grating laugh again, but her eyes were focussed on Zeno, the leader, waiting for the next attack, whether it was going to be verbal or physical.

"Well, _you're_ really brave!" she said scornfully, "Six of you against two – and Addy isn't even at Hogwarts yet. _Really_ noble!"

Zeno's face turned slightly ugly, and he stepped onto the first stair. Issie was small for her age, and the movement brought him up to her level, robbing her of her height advantage. Refusing to step back, she finally drew her wand. The main thoughts in her head was that she hoped they wouldn't hurt Addy, and that Ebony would never let her hear the last of this; the girl had been spoiling for a fight ever since Jake had got the better of her in that first Potions lesson.

But they never got their fight. At that moment, one member of the group, Ariadne's brother Weylin, who had been carefully watching the doors, gave a sharp hiss.

"Someone coming!"

Zeno scowled and hesitated for a moment, but Weylin grabbed his arm.

"Daphne's her aunt," he reminded the older boy, and this argument seemed to convince the third years; it would not go down well if they were caught drawing their wands on the hostess's niece. They melted away into the darkness, but not before Ebony had turned back over her shoulder and said dramatically, "Just wait, Malfoy. We'll get you in the end!"

Weylin was the only one who paused, just long enough for his sister and friends to be out of earshot. Then he looked passively at Issie.

"There's nobody coming," he said quietly, "You'd better get out of here before they realise that."

Issie stared at him, taken aback. Even before she had been sorted into Gryffindor, she had never really talked to Weylin. He was a quiet boy who kept himself to himself and in fact always gave the impression that he thought himself better than most people. He was neither a cruel bully like his brother, nor a bitchy airhead like his sister, but he moved with the same crowd.

"Why did you say that then?" she asked at last.

He looked at her for a few moments, his face giving nothing away, then spoke in tones that sounded mildly reproving, and made Issie feel that she was the one in the wrong.

"Not all Slytherins are evil, you know."


	14. Overheard Conversation

**A/N: Another long wait, and a very short chapter - sorry folks. This is the problem with publishing as I write and not writing it all first, because this chapter should really have been part of the last one, but I thought it was going to be longer, so I split it... It's like part two of the previous chapter. However, I think some of you have been waiting for something like this, so hopefully you won't be too disappointed. Thanks to everyone who reviewed since I published the last chapter!**

**Happy Easter to those who celebrate it, and lots of chocolate eggs to anyone who reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine.**

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**Chapter 14: Overheard Conversation**

**_In which Issie overhears a conversation, a little old history is raked up and Addy Goyle creates more questions than she answers..._**

As Issie slipped away, Addy trailing reluctantly after her, she mused on Weylin Nott's words. They had given her a bit of a jolt, because she realised that she _had_ in fact been starting to think that way. The happier and more at home she was in Gryffindor, the more she was thinking like one. When she saw a Slytherin these days, she was on her guard; suspicious. She had not wanted to come tonight, because everyone else there would be Slytherins. And Slytherin was the enemy.

But that was stupid. _Scorpius_ was a Slytherin, and so were her parents; she _knew _that not all Slytherins were evil.

She just needed to remember it, she realised.

She wished she had somewhere to leave Addy, who was quickly becoming a hindrance, following along behind her silently, hardly responding when Issie spoke to her. Issie felt sorry for Adelaide, and she knew that she could be a nice little thing sometimes, but she made Issie uneasy. She knew it was just the way Addy was, but she couldn't help wondering sometimes if there was something wrong with her. She didn't act like a normal little girl at all. It was as if she was only half there. And as far as Issie knew, the child had never shown any signs of doing magic yet. She didn't like to think what Greg Goyle's reaction would be if his daughter turned out to be a squib – he wouldn't be happy...

However, just now, she was stuck with her. It didn't seem as if Addy specially wanted to be with Iseult, but she was following her nonetheless, and Issie didn't want to leave her by herself after what had just happened. She wasn't sure what would be best; to go back to the party, which might be dull and not that pleasant, but at least was full of adults, so that the others couldn't do anything, or to try and hide elsewhere in the house, where they were unlikely to find her. She put both these suggestions to Addy in the end, and the child looked thoroughly dismayed at the idea of returning to the party. Again, Issie wondered why the little girl was so strange; when she was six, she'd have been much keener to be running round the lit room, stealing snacks from the trays and getting under everyone's feet, than hanging around in a cold, dark corridor. Aunt Daphne kept all her rooms warm and heated, but she had evidently decided to economise and leave the corridors cold, and it was an old house built of stone, so the halls were chilly to say the least, right at the end of December. Not wanting to stay in them any longer than necessary, Issie led the way upstairs, thinking that in the maze of upstairs rooms, nobody would be able to find them. She knew her way round too well.

It was just as they reached the first floor that Issie heard voices coming from a room just to the right of the stairs, and one was her mother's voice, making her pause in surprise. Last time she had seen her mother, she had been down in the ballroom, and Issie couldn't think of a reason for her to have left it, unless she was feeling ill or something... anxiety coursed through her at this thought, and kept her hesitating on the stairs. Why was her mother in that little room? Issie knew that it was only a music room, or had been at one point; these days, it contained an out-of-tune piano and very little else. And who was she talking to? Momentarily forgetting about Addy in her curiosity, Issie moved closer to the door. It never occurred to her that she was listening to a possibly private conversation; she was simply eaten up with curiosity and sudden worry.

The first thing she heard was a familiar voice, although she couldn't immediately place it. It was a woman's voice... but who was it?

"Well, it's too late _now, _Astoria," it said, sounding amused, "If you're worried about this sort of thing, you should have said so from the beginning, shouldn't you? You must have known that once you were in, you were in..."

"You know perfectly well that you gave me no choice!" her mother's voice was low, but charged and almost desperate, "It was nothing short of blackmail..."

"Blackmail's a very nasty word," the other voice was smooth and calm, "I wouldn't go around using it lightly like that, if I were you, Astoria. The point is that you're either with us or against us."

"And I'm against you," Astoria Malfoy's voice was stronger this time, "I think it's appalling. It was pointless; mindless. I don't know how I could ever have agreed to it in the first place. That poor child... Fiona..."

"But you do know why you agreed to it," the other woman's voice was hard, "You know very well that I know your little secret, Astoria. And you may pretend to be on the high moral ground, but you'll _always_ be one of us really – you'll be one of us as long as your reputation is more important than your principles..."

"This is nothing to do with my reputation," Astoria retorted, "This is my marriage; my family. But I should never have done it; I'll never forgive myself. And as for the rest of it... No, Pansy. I can't do it," Issie could hear a note of desperation in her mother's voice, "I just can't keep going along with it... I think it's madness, and it hasn't a hope of succeeding, even if the stories were true. And I don't _want _it to succeed; I think you must be mad..."

"Yes, so you've said," the other woman's voice (and at the name Pansy, Iseult had realised who it was; Mrs Nott) dropped several degrees in temperature, "And I've said to you that if you had no choice before, you have even less now. You are part of it; you're in far too deep. If we go down, _you_ go down. You know that."

"I don't understand why you want me at all," her mother's voice had fallen and Iseult had to strain to hear it, "I don't want any part of it. Just leave me and my family be, and I'll leave you... Why does it have to be me?"

"Because," Pansy Nott's voice was hard, "Because you have things to prove, and your family has a lot to make up for. And it won't be Draco who does it. He's lost his nerve; why do you think I broke up with him all those years ago...?"

Astoria gave a short, mirthless laugh.

"Pansy, you know that's not how it happened, and I know it too, so I don't see the point in pretending. Or in re-hashing history that's nearly twenty five years old. Haven't you let it go yet? Is _that_ what this is about? You still hate me because I got the boy you wanted? Not that it really happened like that either. Please Pansy... just let it _go_..."

However, this was clearly the wrong thing to say, since Mrs Nott made an angry sound, and Iseult heard sharp footsteps heading for the door. She backed away hurriedly and looked round for Addy, who was sitting on the top step, deep in her comic again and apparently oblivious to the whole conversation.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Astoria!" Pansy Nott's angry voice came from just the other side of the door, "But I'm warning you – you're part of this now, whether you like it or not..."

Iseult grabbed Addy's hand, drawing the smallest of surprised squeaks from the younger girl and hauled her down the corridor and into an alcove, just in time. The door opened, and Mrs Nott emerged, sweeping down the corridor in an expensive-looking red dress, her eyes angry. Iseult waited, but her mother did not appear, and feeling somehow as if she would be interfering where she wasn't wanted if she went to her mother now, Issie crept out of her hiding place, tugging Addy with her, and hurried away as quietly as possible, her heart thumping and her mind racing.

Try as she might, Issie could make no sense of the conversation she had heard. It had seemed to be about a whole lot of things. She knew, from Aunt Daphne, that Mrs Nott and her father had gone out while they were at school, so that part made sense, sort of. Except that Aunt Daphne had made it sound funny, whereas this had sounded as if they were talking about something very serious. And she didn't understand how it was relevant to the rest of the conversation, or to anything else, except that she supposed it explained why her mother and Mrs Nott didn't like each other much. But as for the rest... Issie had no idea what the pointless, mindless thing was that Mrs Nott had made her mother join in with.

Nor did she understand what Mrs Nott meant by 'your little secret.' Her mother did not have any secrets, did she? And who on earth was Fiona? It all just seemed to be disjointed little bits of unrelated information, and Iseult could make neither head nor tail of it. The only sense she took from it was that for some reason, her mother was upset and worried about something, and that Pansy Nott was the reason for it, and for that, Issie would be quite happy to rip Mrs Nott's sleek black hair out of her head by the roots.

"Who was that lady?" Addy spoke suddenly as they hurried along the corridor, heading for the private part of the house where the bedrooms were, surprising Issie, for Adelaide rarely spoke unless spoken to. Issie glanced back at her.

"That's Mrs Nott - Pansy Nott," she told the younger girl, slightly shortly, because right now she hated Mrs Nott.

"She came to my house," the small girl announced. Issie stopped and stared at her, waiting for her to go on, but Addy had clearly said as much as she thought she needed to. She had stopped because Issie had stopped, but she was staring off to one side, not apparently paying any attention to Iseult any more.

"When?" said Issie at last, wondering why on earth Mrs Nott - rich, snobbish and arrogant, and wife of a respected Ministry official - would be visiting the Goyles...

Addy shrugged, refocussing on the older girl.

"Just before," she said, but that could mean anything, Issie realised, from earlier that day to a few weeks ago.

"She's mean," Adelaide added unexpectedly. Issie sent her a startled glance.

"Yes, I know," she agreed, "What did she do though?"

Addy shrugged again. "She just is." And that was as explicit as Issie could persuade her to be, because once you started questioning Addy, she simply slid away and became vaguer and vaguer. Issie wondered if someone had warned her not to tell, because she wouldn't put it past Mrs Nott and Addy's father to be planning something they shouldn't be... and Mrs Nott's conversation with Issie's own mother only strengthened this idea. Maybe she should tell her dad, Issie thought uneasily, but then he must know whatever Mum knew. Mustn't he? Until recently, Issie would have had no hesitations about just asking her mum about it all, but Astoria had seemed different recently. More distant, and somehow fragile. Issie missed having a mum she could ask anything; it made her feel lost and lonely, like the rock in her life had suddenly started to crumble. But when she had tried to talk to Scorpius about it, he had basically told her that she was being over dramatic about it... and maybe she was, but still. She wished she had someone she could talk to about it other than Adelaide Goyle.


	15. Veritaserum

**A/N: I'm back! Yes, I know, it's been forever and a day, but I said I'd be back and I am. I lost a lot of my stories in a double computer crash (ie both my computers died in the same week) a while back, which killed off my inspiration and left me very discouraged. However, I've recently managed (well, my friendly computer expert has managed) to retrieve the documents off one of the computers, so I was recharged, and here's the result! **

**No idea if any of my previous readers are still paying attention, or if I'm starting from scratch, but please if you've read this far, leave a review! They really do mean a lot, especially after such a long break! **

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**Chapter 15: Veritaserum**

_**In which James and Louis play a prank with far-reaching consequences, a lot of people get very angry, and Issie learns one of her brother's secrets.**_

James Potter was feeling an emotion he was largely unfamiliar with: Guilt. It was a decidedly unpleasant emotion, and he found himself wishing that his conscience had not suddenly awoken at this point in his life, and he could go back to his previous, guilt-free existence. In vain, he tried to tell himself that Al and Sapphie's break up had not been his fault. They had already broken up _before_ he kissed Sapphie, and even though the original argument had apparently been about the fact that he and Sapphie had slept together, that was not his fault either. At the time that had happened, there had been nothing between Albus and Sapphie at all, and James hadn't even known his brother liked her. Therefore he could not be blamed, and yet... he was blaming himself.

Even if it _hadn't_ been his fault that they broke up; even if Albus _was_ a tad too uptight and righteous, with a tendency for making mountains out of molehills... the fact remained that James had snogged Sapphie less than an hour after she had broken up with his brother. And he _knew_ that Albus had been really into the relationship; James might pretend to be oblivious to the feelings of those around him at times, but he knew his brother better than he often even realised himself. That hadn't been the act of a good, supportive brother; it had been the act of a complete prick, and James could not help knowing it. Sapphie was slightly to blame too, of course, but she had been deeply upset and emotional, as well as drunk, and James had taken advantage of that without a second thought.

Which led him to wonder uneasily _why_ he had been quite so keen to take advantage of it. Of course, he had been drunk too, and snogging girls always seemed like a good idea when he was drunk, and he thought (although he wasn't sure) that she had kissed him first. But still... it was Sapphie. Sapphie whom he certainly would acknowledge was attractive – attractive enough for him to have slept with her last year – but whom he had assured Rose vehemently not so long ago that he did not remotely fancy. And he didn't, he really didn't. He didn't want to go out with her; he didn't even particularly want to snog her when he was sober. It was just one of those things that happened when he was drunk, and James had never worried about those before. He had never seen the point of being embarrassed or regretful about something you did while you were drunk. This, though, was different. He thought that it was going to take a long time for Albus to forgive him for this, if he ever did, and that thought hurt more than he'd have liked to admit.

Then there were the Malfoys. He had certainly never expected to feel any guilt around a member of that family, but... the news that Iseult Malfoy had broken to them in the Christmas Holidays made him wish that he had not said a few of the things he had said recently. All the snipes about Malfoy's mother, when she had apparently been dangerously ill... He wished he hadn't made those. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, and it made no difference at all to his dislike of Malfoy, but still. He wouldn't have said those things if he'd known. Which wasn't his fault either, he told himself. He couldn't have known, so he wasn't really to blame.

Being James, of course, he refused to acknowledge any of what he was feelings, and instead took refuge in a dangerously light-hearted mood that could swing rapidly the other way if anyone challenged him on anything – a sign, for those who knew him well, that all was not right.

"James was in a bad mood today, wasn't he?" Emilia Brooke remarked guilelessly in the girls' changing rooms one day, after a particularly gruelling Quidditch practice. Fortunately, Sapphie had showered quickly and left ahead of the rest of them – a large number of James' complaints today had been directed at her, which had been the limit of his acknowledgement of her existence. This didn't exactly improve their performance as a team, which in turn did not improve James' mood, so it was something of a vicious cycle.

"Well, it's no wonder, is it?" Angharad Jones, the Seeker, said guardedly, with a glance at the other occupants of the room.

"Poor James," Emilia remarked with a sigh. Angharad stared at her. She was usually a quiet girl, but this statement seemed to galvanise her.

"Poor _James_?" she glanced at Lily, "Sorry, Lily. But James isn't the one I feel sorry for..."

Lily, who had been bent over fastening her shoelaces, straightened up, pushing her hair out of her face.

"James needs to get his act together," she said unexpectedly, "And so does Sapphie. I'm not even talking about what happened – that's their business. But the Quidditch team's everyone's business, and right now, we're not working as a team – and if we're not a team, we're going to lose the cup." She picked up her bag and marched out of the changing rooms, leaving the two older girls staring after her and wondering when dreamy little Lily had grown a backbone.

* * *

It was Louis who, sitting in the common room one day and watching his cousin scowling over a Transfiguration essay, reminded James of the plans they had made before Christmas.

"Hey, Jamie," he said casually, "What happened to... you know – the stuff Rose was making for us...?"

Fenella was not there, but there were others within earshot, and he didn't want to have to mention the substance by name. James looked up, a thoughtful expression replacing his frown.

"I don't know," his brows came down again, "I doubt if she made it, not after..."

"But you said she'd nearly finished it!" Louis broke in hastily, heading James off from dangerous topics. Fenella said he ought to talk about it, but Louis was of the opinion that the only people James should talk to about it were Al and Sapphie.

"Yeah, that's true," James narrowed his eyes, "And it is _mine_ – I paid for all the stuff she bought to make it with. I bet she's just going to keep it..."

This seemed very likely to Louis; he doubted that Rose would take James' point of view of the situation at all, since she had put all the work into actually making it, and he didn't think that in her current mood, she'd have any problem with taking James' money and giving him nothing in return. He was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Are you going to let her?" he asked eventually. This also seemed very unlikely, and sure enough, James immediately shook his head.

"No way," he said, a hint of scorn in his voice, "Question is, how do we get it?"

Louis thought about this.

"Where would she have made it?" he mused, "Room of Requirement? Does she know about that place?"

"Yes," James said at once, "She's heard the stories about the final battle here as often as I have. She knows about it – and I've heard her talk about using it too. I bet that's where it is – where else could she do it and be sure nobody'd find it? And Rose wouldn't risk getting caught doing something like that."

"Well, if she made sure nobody could find it, how are _you_ going to get in?" Louis demanded. James grinned evilly, his displeasure disappearing in his enjoyment of his developing plan.

"I know how to use that room better than Rose..."

"Because you take girls there the whole time," Louis interjected, but James went on as if he hadn't heard his cousin.

"You can't completely stop anyone else getting in, not if they know what you were doing in there. Even Voldemort didn't manage that. And we know – at least, I think – that she's hidden the Veritaserum in there. I know how to work the room. If it's there, I'll get it okay..."

"The other question is," Louis went on, "What are we going to do with it, if we get it? The whole point was to get the truth about the map, and get our own back on them for taking it... But we know who had it now, and we can't exactly go feeding first and second years with..."

"Ssh! Shut up!" James interrupted, "Don't shout it out for the whole common room to hear, you dick!"

Loius shrugged this off, but lowered his tones nonetheless.

"Well, we can't! So what's the point?"

James looked severely at his cousin.

"The _point_, Louis, is that we're never exactly going to have another chance like this, and if we don't use it, it's wasted. I'm not planning on using it to get revenge on Lucy and that crowd," he went on, before Louis could speak again, "I'll get her back some other time. But there are plenty of other things we could do..."

There was a glint in James' eye that Louis recognised only too well, and it meant that there was no use arguing. James had been in a stubborn mood for weeks, and Louis knew from experience that that sort of thing with James usually ended with an explosion into something utterly mad and borderline dangerous – it seemed to be his way of proving to the world that he didn't care what it thought of him. Usually, however, these plans were a lot of fun until they went wrong, so Louis grinned ruefully.

"Okay, fine. So what's your idea?"

James smirked triumphantly, knowing that he had won his cousin over. Louis could never resist a prank.

"Well... personally, I think it's been way too long since there were any healthy inter-house prank wars..." he said innocently, "So listen carefully, Lou, and then tell me I'm a genius..."

* * *

The plan _was_ brilliant, of that perhaps half the school was agreed.

There was no way of inserting anything into the food and drink that was served in the Great Hall _before_ it arrived, since it appeared directly in the dishes and goblets on the tables. And of course, doing it when everyone was already seated was impossible. James' way round this was as simple as it was effective; a couple of drops of Veritaserum in the bottom of the goblets, placed their early in the morning, after the table was laid but before anyone appeared in the Great Hall. After all, he reasoned, who examined the bottom of their goblet before their drink appeared? A tiny amount of clear liquid was very unlikely to be noticed.

Their targets, of course, were the older Slytherin students, the people James and Louis tended to regard as their natural foes. The hardest part, as James remarked bitingly as he led the way downstairs on their chosen morning, was hauling Louis out from under his duvet at crack of dawn; Louis Weasley was not a morning person. Once he was up, it was more or less plain sailing. Being January, it was still dark outside and the corridors were unlit, but they used their wands, and nobody caught them; by that time, all the prefects had finished their rounds long ago and were fast asleep in bed. They could not, of course, predict who would choose which seat and which glass, but people tend to fall into habits when it comes to seating arrangements, and the sixth and seventh years could generally be relied upon always to take the same end of the table. The deed done, they slipped out of the hall, and waited for the fun to begin...

Iseult Malfoy had had a lot to think about since the Christmas holidays. She didn't like it; it felt as if lots of grown up problems were weighing in on her, and she didn't know how to deal with them. She still didn't know what to make of the conversation she had overheard at Aunt Daphne's party, and it bothered her. Being twelve, she thought gloomily, was somehow a lot harder than being eleven.

Still, at least at school she had Alice and Jake, with whom she had become inseparable, and although she had received a few nasty glances from the likes of Ebony Montague and her friends, they clearly did not quite dare to have a go at her when she was surrounded by other Gryffindors, and there were so many teachers around. And she was growing in confidence; she no longer felt like an unwelcome imposter in the Gryffindor Common Room, and letters from her parents assured her that Caelum was now doing well, and getting stronger all the time. So the bad was balanced by the good, and gradually, immersed in school life, she was able to forget.

She was chatting cheerfully to Alice and Jake that morning, as they came in to the Great Hall for breakfast, and it was not for some time that she – or most other people in the room – even noticed anything amiss. The first signs came in a slight increase of noise from the Slytherin table, the rise of voices both horrified and frightened. Their conversation pausing, the three Gryffindor first years looked over. They were not the only ones. Some of the Slytherins were behaving extremely strangely, and it was attracting attention, although the professors' table seemed as yet unaware of what was going on. Several of the older students had taken on a dazed glassy appearance, and some were talking, apparently involuntarily and entirely nonsensically. As the Great Hall fell into a startled silence, Issie heard the sound of Marvolo Nott's voice announcing helplessly that he had cheated on his last year's Transfiguration OWL. Those around began to giggle nervously, and suddenly, a voice – she later thought it was Rose Weasley's - was heard to speak the word '_Veritaserum_...' This word spread across the tables, the noise levels rising again as everyone else cottoned on to what had happened, and a number of people, amid great hilarity, began to shout questions at the Slytherin table. Issie, Alice and Jake exchanged wide-eyed glances, as Professor Clearwater stood up and began to call ineffectually for quiet. Further up their own table, James Potter and Louis Weasley were helpless with laughter, and they weren't the only ones.

"What's Veritaserum?" Jake demanded.

"Truth potion," Alice responded at once, "If you've had it, you can't help telling the truth."

Jake stared at her as this sank in, then looked back at the Slytherin table, a grin slowly spreading over his face as he realised what was happening.

"Wow. So they've..." he broke off, suddenly sending a glance at Issie as he realised that she might possibly not find this as funny as he did. She was paying no attention to him though, but had stood up, searching the Slytherin table for something – or rather someone.

"Is?" Alice questioned uncertainly.

Issie looked down at them, and they were startled to see a smile on her face.

"I'll be back in a bit," she said, "Just got something to do..."

* * *

Scorpius, his brain still relatively unfuddled, rapidly came to some conclusions as he stared around the hall. He spotted Potter and Weasley, and immediately guessed who was to blame for this. Well, that wasn't surprising. He himself had only drunk about half his goblet before it became clear that something was going on, but he was still feeling extremely strange – it was a heavy, dazed feeling, and it was a much greater effort than usual for his brain to control his mouth. There were questions being shouted out, and the only way to stop himself impulsively – and truthfully – answering them was to blank them out so he wasn't hearing them. That would only work so long, and glancing at his friends, he realised that Danny appeared to have got a much larger dose, and was slowly (and, fortunately, quietly) talking about the attractions of some girl or other. At least none of them had done what Marvolo Nott appeared to have done though, which was gulp down his own drink in one go and then help himself to his neighbour's, Scorpius thought, with a moment of very brief satisfaction at Nott's current state. Then he got to his feet, hauling with him Danny, who happened to be beside him. The teachers were no attempting to calm things down, but without much success.

"Come on," he muttered, "Potter and Weasley... Let's get out..." He didn't need to finish the sentence, which was good, because he was finding it safest to simply keep his mouth shut. Followed by Calypso, they headed for the door. Outside the hall, he took a deep breath, and glanced at his friends. Danny was wearing a dazed expression; however, he was functioning well enough to nod, a horrified expression on his face, when Scorpius commanded him not to talk. The Hospital Wing seemed the obvious place to go; Scorpius had recognised the symptoms of what they had been given, and he wasn't sure that Madam Booth would even have an antidote to Veritaserum, but it was better than sticking around the Great Hall. They were not the only ones to have had this idea; several of their housemates had also decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and had retreated rapidly. As they headed down the corridor, however, a small figure appeared beside him.

"Scorpius!"

He glared at his sister, because the gleeful grin she wore on her face seemed out of keeping with the situation.

"What?"

"I need to talk to you!" she told him earnestly, her grin fading.

"Yeah... well now isn't the best time," he told her with exaggerated patience. It was an effort to say anything at all that wasn't an answer to a direct question, he found.

"No, it has to be now," she said firmly. Scorpius gave her an exasperated look, then glanced at his friends.

"Hospital Wing," he told them, "I'll catch you up..."

As they disappeared up the corridor, he turned back to Issie, who was grinning again. "What?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"I've got a question for you from Hazel," she said innocently, "She told me to find out if I could... and now seemed like a _really_ good time..."

Too late, Scorpius saw where this was going, and backed hurriedly away from his little sister.

"No... no way... go away, Issie..."

She followed him, a mischeivous glint in her eye that he would have recognised only too well if he hadn't been close to panicking.

"Hazel wants to know if you like anyone," she persisted, "Any girls, I mean. So, do you? Fancy anyone?"

"No, not really," he replied promptly, relief flooding him as he realised that he could answer that truthfully without embarrassing himself – he was aware enough to know that there might have been things he hadn't even realised himself, but which could have been revealed by the Veritaserum. In an attempt to end this conversation, he set off after his friends at a quick pace.

Issie looked disappointed, but trotted after him, keeping up with him by almost running.

"Oh... not even a little bit? I mean, isn't there even someone you think's kind of nice and pretty...?"

If Issie herself was honest, she wasn't really asking on Hazel's account. Not that she really cared on her own account either, but it wasn't every day that your lordly older brother was dosed with Veritaserum and you got a chance to find out his secrets, and it was the first thing she had thought of. It was also something that, since the Christmas Holidays and Hazel's questions, she had wondered once or twice. She could immediately tell that this answer was not so straight forward. Scorpius seemed to be fighting a battle with himself; a battle that he ultimately lost as the word "Yes," was dragged from him unwillingly.

"Ooooh!" her eyes lit up, almost forgetting that he was under the potion in her thrill at this news, "_Who_?"

Scorpius stopped and shut his eyes, willing this not to be happening, because up to now he hadn't even been aware himself that this was true, but it clearly was, because do what he would, when faced with a direct question, he couldn't _not_ answer it... he could fight it, but he couldn't win... so he opened his mouth. And told her.

* * *

The professors found the whole thing less amusing.

Professor Sewell, the usually stoic Head of Slytherin, was apoplectic with rage at the wholesale victimisation of his house, and Professor Clearwater was at her most icy as she informed the rest of the school (it had taken some time to get anything sorted out, but the affected students had eventually all been removed to the Hospital Wing, and Professor Mundy, who taught Potions, had gone to lend a hand) that she was absolutely disgusted by the trick and was taking it extremely seriously. Unfortunately for James and Louis, the culprits were easily tracked; too many people had noticed that they had, uncharacteristically, been the first down for breakfast that morning, and as it turned out, they had been spotted sneaking out of the hall in the early hours by none other than the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. Summoned to Professor Clearwater's office, they were faced with three extremely angry professors, as Neville Longbottom was also very displeased.

"You brewed this potion yourselves, did you?" Professor Clearwater asked, her voice stiff with disapproval. Louis glanced at James. He knew that James and Rose had been on extremely bad terms recently, and that Rose had said some pretty hurtful things (the fact that they were true did not detract at all from their unpleasantness), and for a moment – just a moment – he wasn't sure what James was going to say. His cousin did not look at him, however.

"Yes, we brewed it," he said blandly, "At least, I did."

"I was in on it," Louis said quickly, glaring at James. Of course, truthfully neither of them had brewed the Potion, but if they were going to take the blame for it, they were going to take the blame together. He was beginning to feel a slight squirming in his stomach though, because the expressions of the professors were very grim, and he began to realise that they were, in fact, confessing to brewing and administering to other students, a potion that was highly illegal unless you had an official potioneer's license. This could be quite serious...

Professor Clearwater raised her eyebrows.

"I had not realised that your skill and knowledge at Potions went so far, Mr Potter. Professor Mundy has never mentioned you as one of his more capable students."

James shrugged.

"There are book in the library..."

Professor Clearwater appeared to accept this, although Professor Longbottom raised his eyebrows in something that looked like disbelief. However, the other two were more focussed on other issues.

"I hope you realise," Professor Clearwater was saying, her voice dropping several more degrees, "Just how serious this is. You two are _Seventh Years_. You are too old to be playing babyish pranks, and indeed, this went beyond the childish and into the realms of the dangerous. I had very much hoped that we had seen the last of this sort of behaviour from you. You are both adults; overage wizards who should know far better. To administer that sort of potion to your fellow students is despicable, not to mention illegal."

"Professor Clearwater is right," Professor Longbottom agreed, "I'm ashamed of you, boys. What were you _thinking_?" His tone, which did indeed contain shock and deep disappointment, was far more impressive on James and Louis than Professor Clearwater's clipped tones, quite apart from the fact that outside school, they both saw Neville as a friend. Both looked slightly ashamed of themselves.

"It was only a joke," James muttered, "We didn't give them much..."  
"Beside the point!" Professor Sewell broke in curtly, "I fail to see the funny side of this 'joke.' I cannot help but think that an appropriate punishment would be to administer the same drug to the two of you, send you out among your fellow students, and see if you still appreciated the hilarity of it..."

Both boys blanched a little at this idea, and looked quickly at Professor Clearwater.

"Perhaps so, Professor Sewell," she said calmly, "I would agree wholeheartedly were it not for the illegality of such a thing. As it is..." she looked severely between the two, "I have seriously considered the option of expulsion; it would be perfectly deserved. Both of you have had a great many chances given to you over the years. However, I have decided to be lenient. Fifty points from Gryffindor each.." Professor Longbottom winced slightly, but said nothing, "And a month's worth of detentions. Mr Potter," she looked at James, "I must add that your record is significantly worse than that of Mr Weasley. You are leaving school and going into the world at the end of this year, terrifying though that thought is for the rest of us. Between now and then, I do not want to see you in this office again, or hear of a single incident with which you are involved. If I do, then I will have no choice but to look at expulsion. You are on your last warning. Now, go."

They went, but stopped just down the corridor to look at each other, both a little shaken.

"Well... could have been worse," James commented, with a show of bravado.

"I s'pose..." Louis agreed, "They could have expelled us both on the spot. Or gone with Sewell's idea..."

"Losing points and detention," James shrugged, "Not like that's never happened to us before."

"Yeah," Louis said with a small smile, then looked more serious, "But you need to watch yourself, Jamie. Last warning. And Clearwater'd do it too, you know she would..."

Half way down the corridor, they met Rose, who seemed to have forgotten that she was not speaking to James.

"What happened?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

They told her, and she scowled at them.

"Well, why the fuck didn't you tell them it was me who brewed it?"

James rolled his eyes.

"It wouldn't have made any difference. We still gave it to them; we'd still have been in just as much trouble. Why get you into it too? Anyway, you want to be an Auror. That means you shouldn't have things like this on your record. It doesn't matter to us..."

Rose stared at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowed.

"Well..." she said grudgingly at last, "Thanks, I suppose. Much appreciated, even though I was coming to confess. And I'm glad you weren't expelled," she made to go past them, but turned back, glancing over her shoulder, "Oh, but James? You're still a wanker." And she was gone.

When they reached the common room, they found Fenella, as angry as the professors, who ranted for a few minutes about just how uncalled for and irresponsible their prank had been.

"Hey, not like you've never played pranks on the Slytherins!" James protested, when he could get a word in edgeways. Fenella threw him a withering glance.

"There are harmless, funny pranks, and then there's using dangerous illegal potions to publicly humiliate people. There's a difference. And anyway, _some_ of us have grown out of things like that."

She would hear no argument on the matter, and ignored them for a few hours, but James and Louis were used to Fenella, and knew that once she'd made her point, she'd forgive them; she always did.

* * *

The students affected were treated easily enough, but some of the effects of the incident were longer lasting. Several of the older Slytherins glared menacingly at James and Louis whenever they saw them (the two offenders appeared entirely unfazed by this) and seemed to be plotting some sort of revenge. The school as a whole became far more interested in Xanthe Derrick's public confession that she had used magical enhancement surgery on her breasts in the summer than in the rumours about Lily and Scorpius, which subsequently died down. Rose seemed to have decided reluctantly that she now owed James one, and was not ignoring him quite as assiduously.

And, if anyone had noticed (which not many did), Iseult Malfoy was behaving oddly. She seemed oddly chirpy and smug, as if she knew a secret nobody else did, especially when she was around her brother, who seemed to be uncomfortable about this, and watched her like a hawk. When Dannicus Urquhart remarked on this to Scorpius, he got his head bitten off, and didn't bring it up again, although he watched his friend with a somewhat thoughtful expression at times.

However, few pieces of gossip last longer in a school than it takes for the next great event to happen, and it was not long before something else occurred that entirely eclipsed James and Louis' great prank of the year, because a Fifth Year girl was attacked near the school boundary, and suddenly Hogwarts found itself in a state of high security alert...


	16. Lost Seeker

**A/N: Wow, I can't believe the response to my last chapter - I'm so unbelievably happy that I still have readers interested in this story! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed it already: ElephantPatronus, Asterix Tutnix, AuntMo, justalittl y, Messy Ink, and my anon reviewers Cece, betony11, and 'Guest' - you guys are all amazing! **

**And you see, I promised you it wouldn't be long until the next update. Even I wasn't expecting it to be this quick though. And I have another chapter after this pretty much ready to go too, I don't quite know what's going on...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Lost Seeker**

_**In which there is another attack, Roxanne Weasley gets a nasty fright, the Gryffindor Quidditch team is in trouble, James Potter makes a tough decision, and Iseult Malfoy writes a letter.**_

It was Roxanne Weasley who alerted everyone, because the girl in question was Angharad Jones, one of Roxanne's group of close friends. Angharad was the Gryffindor Seeker and the youngest daughter of ex-Harpies captain Gwenog Jones, two things that had earned her a notoriety in the school that she would not have had otherwise, since Angharad was a very quiet, studious girl off the Quidditch pitch.

She and Roxanne had simply gone for a walk down by the lake; a walk that had ended up taking them further than they had thought, right up to the boundaries of the Hogwarts grounds. The sun had been going down; it was only the end of January and still got dark relatively early. Roxanne, being Roxanne, had got herself captivated by the sunset, and on a spur of the moment whim, had shot up onto a small rocky outcrop to see better the glory of pink and orange reflected in the still water. All she heard was a small shriek of pain, a muttered curse, and swung round to see – dimly in the fading light – a figure (a man, she later said) running from the scene, and the crumpled body of her friend on the ground. Roxy had given a sharp cry, and at that, the man had checked, glanced back, and then changed direction, disappearing towards the forest. They asked her afterwards why she had not attempted to stun him, but the simple answer was that she was so shocked and frightened that she did not think of it, or of anything other than the apparently lifeless body of Angharad.

By the next morning, the school was buzzing with the news. Roxanne was present at the Gryffindor table, looking pale and red-eyed, while her cousin Molly sat beside her and fended off curious questioners. Angharad had been taken to St Mungo's, it was said; she was probably going to be okay, but nobody seemed sure what had been done to her, much less why, and who it had been. Aurors had once more been seen at the school; there was no intruder still on school premises, that was the first thing that the staff had checked when the alarm had been raised, but students were forbidden from being out in the grounds near or after dusk, and were instructed not to move in groups of less than three, or to stray too far from the school building. Roxanne was adamant that the figure had been older than a student, but given Hogwarts' strict security measures (increased since the incident in the Autumn), a lot of people were wondering whether she was right or not. Aurors were stationed around the grounds, and Roxanne was interviewed by her own Uncle Ron, although she could shed little more light on the situation than she already had done.

Frightened whispers ran round the school, and Angharad's name was on everyone's lips.

* * *

Others had different concerns regarding the matter. A stricken James Potter was to be found slumped in a chair in the common room, running his hands through his hair until it stood on end. Annabel Carson, coming to sit beside him, looked at him in bemusement.

"I know it's horrible, Jamie," she said gently, "But they're saying Angharad's going to be okay..."

"Not by Saturday though, is she?" James interrupted, in tones of great gloom.

"Saturday?" Annabel looked startled, "Well, no, I doubt it... But why...?"

"_Quidditch, _Annie!" James reminded her in frustration, "We're playing Slytherin on Saturday, and now we haven't got a Seeker, and we can't postpone the match _again_..."

"Oh..." realisation dawned on Annabel's face, "Right... What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," James replied blankly, "I honestly don't know..."

"Isn't there anyone else you could use?" Annabel had been friends with James for many years, and knew just how much Quidditch meant to him. He might feel terrible about what had happened to Angharad, but now that the urgent worry for her life was over, his immediate concern was the Quidditch match that could possible decide the outcome of the cup. James' last cup before he left school. A school sporting tournament might seem like trivia to some people, but not to James Potter. He would be devastated if Gryffindor lost, his last year on the team and as captain.

James knew that his determination to live up to the Potter legacy on the Quidditch pitch bordered on obsession. The others had teased him about it in the past, but they didn't understand. Didn't understand what it meant, to be the eldest son of Harry Potter, and not to be as good at anything as his father. Quidditch was the one thing he could actually do as well as his dad, if not better, thanks to his mother's genes being added to the pool. And he had put together a good team; he had led them well, and they had won last year and the year before. But this year, they were already one game down to both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. He had been counting on this game to move them up, but unless he could find a decent Seeker by Saturday, it looked like they were going to have to cede the game, which would mean crashing out of the tournament fairly spectacularly. The thought was horrible.

He thought about Annabel's question. _Was _there anyone else? Well, that was the problem, wasn't it? Angharad hadn't even been the greatest Seeker. She was bloody good on a broom, but Seeking wasn't her strong point – she was a Chaser. The only reason she'd still been in that position was that there had literally been _nobody_ else he could play as Seeker. You had to be able to do more than fly well for that position.

What about the younger kids? James had taken the time to watch the Second and Third Years flying, in the hope of scouting out new talent, but although he had seen the odd potential Chaser, and one he thought might make an excellent Beater in a few years, he had seen nobody who stood out as a Seeker.

Then suddenly, he remembered a snowball match on broomsticks, and a tiny girl on a borrowed Cleansweep, who dodged flying snowballs with ease and turned her broom with agile speed. He closed his eyes. That was what you needed to be a Seeker, or at least a large part of it. Fred had noticed her talent, and James had had to agree; Iseult Malfoy was good. Good _enough_? Well, he didn't know that, but she was possibly the best he had available. She was so young... but there were no rules against First Years playing; his own father could testify to that. And she _was _a Gryffindor...

Shit, shit, shit. Could he bring himself to do it? He forced himself to think clearly about this. He knew he didn't really want her on the team, but why was that? Because she was too young, his mind told him instantly. He had only seen her fly once; he didn't know that she was good enough. He didn't even know whether she could catch. But a smaller, more honest voice inside him said that it was because she was a Malfoy. Because he did not like her family. Because the thought of James Potter putting a Malfoy on the team was embarrassing.

Could he sacrifice the match for his pride? No. This was his only option. If he was going to do anything about it, though, he needed to do it quickly. It was Thursday afternoon – both he and Annabel had a free period just now - and if there was going to be a new player on the team, they all needed to practice together at least once before Saturday, which meant getting one in tomorrow either before or after lessons, since the younger players did not have free periods. And the daylight hours were so short at this time of year...

He became aware that Annabel was watching him curiously, waiting for an answer from him. He stood up abruptly.

"I've got an idea," he told her, "I'll be back later."

Iseult would be in a lesson just now, but there was no time to be lost, so he needed to get her out of it, and there was only one person who could do that. One person who was not at all pleased with James at the moment, after the Veritaserum incident, but who would hopefully see the urgency in the current situation...

* * *

Issie was surprised to get the summons to see Professor Longbottom in the middle of Charms. Her stomach flipped unpleasantly as she thought of all the things it might be about. It could be her mother again… no, Mum was getting better now, and so was Caelum. Could she be in trouble without realising it? She, Alice and Jake had been out of bed last night, exploring one of the secret passages they had found thanks to the map (they had had to give it back, but not before they had copied out as much of it as they could, and made a note of all the secret passages); could he have found out? But then, surely he'd have wanted to see Alice and Jake too...

She was even more surprised when, after her timid knock had been greeted with a cheerful "Come in!" she opened the door to find James Potter standing in the office. She stopped and stared. What was he here for? Was this some elaborate plot to get her into trouble? But Professor Longbottom was smiling. James was not; he looked a bit worried, Issie thought. Perhaps it was because of Angharad Jones; they were on the Quidditch team together, so she supposed they must be friends.

"Come in, Iseult," Professor Longbottom said cheerfully, "But don't get comfortable. You're not staying long. James here has a proposal for you."

James did not look altogether happy at these words. He looked… sort of embarrassed, Issie thought. And a bit annoyed. She looked nervously at him.

"Look, Iseult," he said, sounding slightly awkward (she thought it was the first time he had ever addressed her by name), "You know Angharad's in St Mungo's. Well, she isn't going to be back any time soon. And we've got the match on Saturday, so we need a Seeker. There isn't anybody even half up to the job. But I saw you play at Christmas, and you can fly pretty well. Have you ever played Seeker?"

Iseult stared at him, open-mouthed. This could not be _James Potter_ offering her a place on his beloved Quidditch team. Her, Iseult Malfoy. Slowly, she realised that he had asked her a question, and that both he and Professor Longbottom were waiting for her to answer it.

"Er… yes. Sort of. I mean, there's only me and Scorpius to play at home. So we sort of play all the positions…" she realised too late that mentioning her brother probably hadn't been the best move. James was scowling.

"Well, I want to see how you play," he said abruptly, "I want to know how good you are at catching."

"What, now?" she asked.

"Well, if you're no good, I'll have to find somebody else," he said, "And I don't have much time. And if you are good, we'll have to practice early tomorrow. So, yes, now."

"But…" her brain was gradually catching up, "I thought First Years weren't allowed to be on the team… We're not allowed brooms..."

Professor Longbottom chuckled.

"Oh, no. You can ask James' father about that – he made the team in his first year. He was extraordinarily talented…The youngest player for a century. And we haven't had another as young since," Issie thought she saw a momentary irritation cross James's face at this, but the Professor was busy reminiscing and did not notice, "It was Professor McGonagall who spotted him. I wasn't there; I was in the hospital wing – fell off my broom the very first lesson – but…" he looked at her, and cleared his throat suddenly, as though he had been going to tell an amusing anecdote, and had changed his mind at the last minute, "Well, no use going over old history. You'd better get going if you still want any light at all."

* * *

It was some time in the early hours of the morning that Hazel was woken by a loud tapping noise just outside. Her eyes shot open and she was sitting up almost before she was awake. It was a familiar sound, and an automatic reaction; for years, Scorpius had written to her by owl, and she had trained herself into responding instantly to the sound, to avoid her parents hearing the beak tapping at her window.

But Scorpius hadn't used that method of communication since he'd set up his phone to be able to send emails from Hogwarts, she realised as she woke up properly, pushing her hair sleepily away from her eyes. Worry registered in her mind – what might have happened that meant he was using owls again? Had he been discovered sending emails to her? She pushed back the covers, shivering as the cold January air hit her, climbed out of bed and crossed to the window. No, she was not mistaken; outside was the familiar shape of an owl. She remembered how exciting and strange it had seemed at first, to be woken by a tame owl at the window, carrying a letter that looked like it had been written in the Middle Ages, with ink on brown parchment. She had got used to it over the years, but now it struck her afresh just how weird Scorpius' world really was. She pulled open the window, realising as she did so that this was not Scorpius' long-eared owl... This one was far smaller, and she didn't recognise it at all. However, it gave a contented sound as it hopped in through the window and held out a leg for her to take the letter.

"Thanks..." Hazel whispered to the bird as she slipped the parchment out, "I'm sorry, I don't have anything to give you..." The owl cast her a look she could only describe as disappointed, but waited, huddled down on her windowsill. Hazel unfolded the parchment, and saw at once that this was not Scorpius' writing either... Her eyes moved down the page, and concern gave way to amusement.

"Dear Hazel," it read, "I know Scorpius writes to you, so I suppose you must be used to getting owls. I hope so anyway. I hope it comes to the right house – I couldn't quite remember which number you lived at. It's my friend Alice's owl – his name's Milton and he's very friendly. He'll wait for a reply if you want to write one, but if not then just tell him to go and he will.

I doubt if Scorp will tell you what happened the other day. It was quite bad but quite funny as well – some people put a potion called veritaserum into some of the Slytherins' goblets at breakfast, and veritaserum means you have to tell the truth about everything. It's kind of illegal to have it unless you have permission, which is why it was quite a bad thing to do, but anyway. Scorpius drank some of it, so I thought I'd try and find out what you wanted me to find out, while he couldn't say anything except the truth. He says he doesn't really fancy anyone though. BUT I asked him if there was even anyone he thought was pretty and he said yes, so I asked him who – and guess what, you were right all along! He definitely doesn't actually fancy her though, because you can't lie when you've had veritaserum. I don't really get what the difference is between thinking someone's nice and pretty and fancying them, but I suppose there must be one or he couldn't have said that.

Anyway, I just thought I'd tell you. I expect he's told you about the girl in my house who got attacked – it's quite scary, so many bad things have happened this year. I never thought my first year at Hogwarts would be like this. But one good thing has happened, at least I think it's good! The girl who was hurt is on the quidditch team (you know about quidditch, right?) and there's a match on Saturday (that's tomorrow) so they were looking for someone else to play, and they picked ME. And it's James Potter who does the choosing, so I don't know why he picked me, but he did. So I get to play tomorrow, and first years hardly ever get to play on teams. Only thing is, I'll be playing against Scorpius. I expect I'll be rubbish and they'll beat us, but still.

See you at Easter! And you should ask Scorp about you know what!

Love, Issie"

Hazel reached the end of the epistle, grinning widely. Issie was definitely growing up and blossoming – she'd always just been Scorpius' cute baby sister, but now she was becoming her own person, and Hazel thought she might be a force to be reckoned with as she grew up. Poor Scorpius. She'd set him up for that one, and he must be seething. She'd have to apologise in her next email – at the same time as teasing him. She couldn't help a stifled giggle at the thought of quiet, dignified Scorpius as a the victim of a truth potion... although she supposed that really, it was a bit of an awful thing to do to anyone – a bit like spiking someone's drink with drugs really, and she felt slightly guilty for finding it funny. She wondered if they'd caught the culprits – Issie hadn't said anything about that.

She read through the letter again, her smile turning to a frown as she re-read the bit about the girl being attacked. A sudden shiver ran through her, and it wasn't only from the cold, although it made her want to get back into bed. Issie was right – a lot of horrible things _had_ happened this year, and a lot of them seemed to involve people being attacked – mostly schoolkids, it seemed. She didn't see how it could all be connected... but it seemed like quite a set of coincidences. And what had happened to Fiona Murphy was still bothering her. "It happens sometimes," Scorpius had told her at Christmas, "It's horrible... sick... but sometimes witches and wizards think it's funny to attack Muggles..." he had broken off with a strange expression on his face, and when she had asked if he was okay, had said abruptly, "My grandfather used to be into that stuff." Then he had gone back to the subject of Fiona. "They're investigating," he had said, "They'll probably catch them in the end. But it's probably just a bunch of thugs who thought they were being funny. You don't need to worry about it..."

But Hazel _did_ worry about it. And she could not help wondering, why _here_? Why quiet little Mirlton, where the most dramatic sort of thing that happened was teenagers handing out drugs at school parties? Scorpius had once told her that he didn't know of any other witches and wizards in the town. So why had someone come here to do that? Unless... and it was a thought she didn't want to have, a though that made her blood run cold, unless his family was actually involved in some way... Hazel liked Astoria and couldn't believe that of her, but she knew Scorpius' father less well – and Scorpius had made no secret of his father's beliefs on wizarding superiority. He had hinted, too, of much darker things that his family had been involved with – like that comment about his grandfather having been into hurting Muggles for fun...

No, Hazel wouldn't and couldn't simply forget about Fiona Murphy, even if Scorpius wanted her to. There was something going on in the magical world, something sinister and disturbing, she was becoming sure of it, and it was spilling over into her own world. Because after all, they were the same world really, weren't they? They all lived alongside each other, in the same towns and villages, sometimes the same streets. It was no use thinking that things that happened there wouldn't affect her world, or vice versa. And if school children were being attacked, that was everyone's business.

Hazel took out a piece of paper and scribbled a reply to Issie. She said nothing of her troubling thoughts, of course. Her reply was cheerful and upbeat, thanked Issie for the information, told her not to tell Scorpius she had written to her, congratulated her on making the Quidditch team, and wished her luck in the match. That was another odd thing – after all Scorpius had told her about the fierce house rivalry at Hogwarts, it was strange to think of Issie on an opposing team, alongside James Potter, of whom Hazel had the lowest of opinions. She hoped sincerely that James' motives in putting Issie on the team had been genuine, but she wouldn't put much past him.

She gave the letter to the owl, gave it a brief pat on the head (it was quite a cute little thing), and watched as it flew out of the window. Then she closed the window, pulled the curtain across and hurried back to bed with a sigh. Scorpius was right; there was nothing she could do about any of it. But that only made it worse, to watch and wait and know you were helpless.


	17. The Quidditch Match

**A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers of the last chapter, Asterix Tutnix, AuntMo, frabjous day, and ASunCame. Much love to anyone who reviews this next one!**

* * *

**Chapter 17: The Quidditch Match**

**_In which Slytherin plays Gryffindor, a foul is committed, two people are injured, and James Potter uses up his last chance._**

Last year, Louis Weasley had successfully installed a new commentary system for the Quidditch matches (working in secret after Professor Clearwater had dismissed the idea as a waste of time) based on a Muggle surround sound system, which meant that no Sonorus Charm was needed, and that the voice of the commentator would be heard clearly in every stand but would not be audible to distract the players. Usually, he commentated himself, but there was a recently instated rule that the commentator could not be a member of either house actually playing (after some singularly biased commentary had caused annoyance among members of the other houses) and so Louis had been banned from commentating the Gryffindor matches, to his disgruntlement. His replacement was a Fifth Year Hufflepuff student by the name of Ross Atkinson, and Louis had spent a good forty five minutes instructing the younger boy on the proper use of his commentary system.

The stand was humming with activity; people were predicting a close and exciting match. And now there was the added spice that Iseult Malfoy – who by rights should be a Slytherin, in the heads of many people – would be playing on the Gryffindor team, directly opposite her brother, who was Slytherin Seeker. There were a lot of people looking forward to seeing that, and it had almost overtaken the attack on Angharad as a topic of conversation.

"And here come the Slytherin team," Ross began his commentary as the green and silver players shot onto the pitch, "A strong team under Captain Jareth Flint, as we saw against Hufflepuff. Flint, Malfoy, Derrick, Dimitar, Nott, Selwyn and Parker! Rumour is we've not seen the best yet from Chaser Xanthe Derrick, but there's no doubt that she, Dimitar and Nott are a formidable team. And here are the Gryffindors! Potter, Jordan, Brooke, Potter, Graves, Magorian and Malfoy! This is the one everyone's been looking forward to – which Malfoy will get the Snitch!? I'm told that bets are being taken, if you want to make your way to the stand on my right…" Professor Clearwater's face took on a look of fury as she directed her gaze towards that stand, while Louis gave Atkinson a brief thumbs up and a grin at the successful delivery of the line he had fed him, "The Gryffindor team is a strong line-up too," Atkinson went on, "except for Malfoy, who's an unknown quality, of course. They didn't get a chance to show what they could do against Ravenclaw, with the Snitch caught so early; let's see if they can put that right today…

"Keepers Jordan and Selwyn take up their places in front of the hoops… and they're off! Emilia Brooke with the Quaffle for Gryffindor, and she goes speeding off towards the Slytherin goal, good bit of dodging past Dimitar… but.. ouch! Not such good dodging past the Bludger, hit by Flint. Brooke stays on her broom but drops the Quaffle, and it's picked up by Derrick. Some quick passes between the Slytherin Chasers - those girls really work well together, as we saw last week! The team's gone from strength to strength since Dimitar and Nott joined Derrick last year. They've certainly got the Gryffindors on their toes with those passes, but now Derrick has the Quaffle again and is off; beautiful Sloth Roll away from the Bludger hit by Graves, and Derrick is speeding towards the goal, she's certainly going to shoot… Derrick shoots… and scores! Ten-nil to Slytherin, and that shot went in at some pace! Gryffindor Keeper Jordan didn't stand a chance, and the Slytherins are celebrating!

"But now Lily Potter has the Quaffle and is taking it back up the other end… she's blocked by Nott, but manages to pass to her brother. James Potter with the Quaffle, and he looks determined not to let Slytherin keep their lead for long…"

Down in the stand, Meri was sitting with Hugo, Claire and Freya, watching their friends. Albus was on her other side, slumped back in his seat and refusing to get excited, even when everyone else was on their feet screaming. Sometimes, Meri wondered if he minded being the only Potter not on the team. He didn't look as though he minded, but you could never tell with Al. Meri wasn't even sure if he and James were speaking again or not, and then there was the fact that Sapphie was on the team too... Come to think of it, she was surprised Albus had even turned up to watch.

A few seats away, the First Years were all sitting together, wildly excited by the fact that one of their number was playing. Alice could hardly sit still, and Jake Nelson, Sam Punton and Leon Gairdner kept yelling encouragement at Iseult. Even Tiggi Felling seemed to have got over her slight stiffness concerning Iseult, and was beaming and shouting with the rest. Issie, when she flew near enough to hear them, flashed them a grin. She was nervous, but enjoying herself, despite the fact that Slytherin was currently in the lead. There hadn't been time for her to get her own broom sent from home, so she was riding a borrowed Nimbus 2001. It was a good broom, but very outdated compared to her own Lightening Bolt. She hovered above the game, her stomach doing somersaults.

"All right, Issie?" Scorpius called with a grin.

She nodded, and then had to roll sideways to avoid a Bludger. Scorpius angrily turned on his own Beater, Parker, but at that moment, the whistle blew at the other end of the pitch, as Desdemona Dimitar had just flown full-tilt into Emilia Brooke, and Gryffindor had been awarded a penalty. James took it and scored, narrowing the gulf between the scores.

The match, though, wasn't really going Gryffindor's way. Xanthe Derrick might be a cruel gossip, but she was also a phenomenal player, and seemed to be on the top of her game, which was inspiring the two younger Chasers to greater heights. Sapphie was an excellent Keeper and kept a lot out, but she stood little chance against Derrick's demon shots. The Gryffindors were playing well – James had made some positively brilliant moves - but they seemed a little out of their depth. The score was 120-60, to Slytherin. Not impossible to come back from, but difficult, especially when you had such an inexperienced Seeker. There had been only one sighting of the Snitch so far, when Scorpius had spotted it and dived suddenly. Iseult had given chase, but she had been much further away, and her brother was riding his own broom, which was also a Lightening Bolt and much faster than the Nimbus. Luckily, Gryffindor's Beaters had been on the ball; Sebastian Graves' speeding Bludger had missed Scorpius, but it had been enough to make him swerve and lose sight of the golden blur.

"Enjoying yourself, traitor?" a jeering voice asked, and Issie looked up to see Flint, the Slytherin Captain and other Beater, flying slowly past. She ignored him and kept searching the ground for the Snitch.

"Look at you, good little Gryffindor girl. Potter's favourite First Year! What about your family, traitor? What about your _old_ friends? Forgotten them already, have you? Happier with the Mudbloods and the other Blood Traitors?" Iseult gritted her teeth, as Flint flew much too close, jostling her slightly and making her veer away from him. He smelled unpleasantly of hair gel and body odour. Madam Hooch was focussed on a furiously paced game at the other end of the pitch, Scorpius was a long way off, and Issie began to feel a little bit scared. Flint saw this and leered nastily at her.

"They shouldn't let First Years play. You're not up to it…"

He broke off suddenly with a grunt of pain, as a Bludger hit him square in the back and knocked him away.

Issie looked up.

"Sorry, Flint. Thought you had the Quaffle for a second," Rufus Magorian called, and he winked at Issie as he sped past.

Flint glared at them both, but Rufus hovered behind Issie in a warning way, and Flint scowled.

"And up at the other end of the pitch, Magorian has just hit Flint with a well-aimed Bludger…" Atkinson's voice drew attention to the incident, and several hundred heads turned that way, "There seems to be something of a disagreement between Flint, Magorian and Iseult Malfoy; wonder what that's all about…"

"What the _hell_ are you two doing?" James yelled at Rufus and Issie, as he flew up the group, "Get back to the game!"

Rufus winked at her again, and flew off after James. Flint, now that everybody was watching, gave up on his attempts to bait her, and also returned to play. Issie scoured the air; and then she saw... was it? She narrowed her eyes. Yes, there was a flicker of gold hanging round one of the stands. She glanced over at Scorpius. He was miles away, looking in the wrong direction. Slytherin had just had a goal saved by Sapphie, and their Beaters were engaged in trying to loosen Lily's hold on the Quaffle.

Iseult dived.

Dimly, she was aware of the voice of Ross Atkinson, rising in excitement as he announced, "And Iseult Malfoy has just dived! Surely she's seen something, it can't be a feint! And Scorpius Malfoy has given chase! He's got a lot of ground to make up, but he's gaining…"

Issie gritted her teeth and put on all the speed she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a Bludger flying at her. In the split second before it hit her, she doubted; could she do it? She had seen the players for the Holyhead Harpies (her favourite team) do it, and she had practiced it over and over again until she had it perfectly, flying in the safety of her own garden… but could she do it now?

It took a mere flicker of a moment for those thoughts to pass through her head, before her body's reflexes took over. Without taking her eyes of the Snitch, she rolled into a Sloth Grip Roll, but rather than lose momentum, she kept her broom powering forwards. The Bludger passed harmlessly over her, and she gave that curious motion of her body she had practised for so long - the roll of her shoulders, the flick of her hip – that brought her up the other side, all in one fluid movement, turning a Sloth Roll into the newly-named Round the World Roll. Executed correctly, you neither had to slow down nor change course, and Issie had a moment of exhilaration as she realised that she had done it perfectly, and that the Snitch was still there, just in front of her... A collective gasp went up around the stand at her stunt, but Issie had no chance to notice it. She reached out a hand for the Snitch, felt the brush of tiny wings, and… she had it.

The whistle blew. The Gryffindor stand went crazy. Iseult sped up into the air, the snitch held above her head, as her team flew towards her…

And a Bludger hit her hard in the back of the head, she tumbled off her broom and hurtled towards the ground.

The cheers changed to shrieks and howls. The teams, after a moment's shock, flew fast towards the ground, as did Madam Hooch, and several wands were drawn, but none were quite quick enough. Issie hit the ground hard, with an audible thud, and lay sprawled like a broken doll. Several teachers began to hurry down towards the pitch. But before anybody could make another move, the teams had reacted. Lily Potter landed, jumped off her broom and raced towards Iseult. And two wands pointed simultaneously at the culprit, one Jasper Parker, and two hexes hit him at the same moment. There was a bang, a flash of fire, a horrible smell of burning flesh, and Parker also plummeted to the ground, albeit from a lower height, his robes on fire and his scream of agony resounding round the pitch.

Then Professor Clearwater arrived. With one glance to see that Madam Hooch was attending to Iseult, she directed her wand at Parker, casting the strongest Aguamenti spell she could to put the blaze out, then bent over him, her face set and tense. Professor Sewell had also arrived on the scene, and she turned to him as she straightened up, her face white with anger.

"Please take Mr Parker to the hospital wing at once!" she told him, and then turned to the others, "Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, you will come with me."

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry Potter was upstairs, but his wife's voice floated up to him. There was a note of urgency in it. He took the stairs two at a time, and burst into the room, wand drawn.

"What? What's the matter?"

She gave him an irritated glance.

"You can put the wand away, Harry. There aren't any dark wizards here."

He lowered his wand, looking sheepish, and waited for the sarcastic comment. These days, Ginny frequently told him that middle-aged Aurors were all the same, and that nearly twenty-five years of chasing dark witches and wizards had turned him into Alastor Moody. The comment didn't come. Instead, Ginny, her face strained and worried, gestured towards their fire. Harry turned his head to look, and found himself staring at Neville Longbottom, whose head was sitting amongst the flames.

"Neville?" he said, startled, glancing questioningly between his wife and his old friend, "What...?" There was something in both their faces that made his voice sharp with sudden anxiety. Why would Neville be flooing them in the middle of a Saturday afternoon?

"Harry," Neville sounded stressed and unhappy, "Sorry about this... I was just telling Ginny. You need to come to the school, both of you if you can. There's been an incident..."

An incident? As any parent's does, Harry's mind ran instantly over worst case scenarios, fear cutting through him. An accident? Another attack? Jamie, Al, Lily...?

"They're all okay," Neville went on hurriedly, before Harry could speak, "Your lot, I mean. At least, they're not hurt. But... look, we can explain properly when we get here, but you need to be here. There's a student been hurt – two students in fact. And James is in a bit of bother for it... I don't think... Well, under the circumstances it was understandable, but his record, you know?" he looked unhappily at his two friends, who were looking both frantic and confused, "I'm sorry – I have to go and speak to the Headmaster, but Penny's in charge and she isn't happy; she wants the parents here. I'm hoping we can swing it for him, but..."

Harry had no clear idea of what had happened, but one thing was clear; his oldest child was in trouble and he and Ginny were needed.

"Okay," he said abruptly, "We're on our way."

* * *

"Seriously injured - he could have been _killed_… A co-ordinated attack like that on another student…" Professor Clearwater was saying furiously as Harry and Ginny arrived in her fire.

The two boys standing in front of her desk gave each other startled, outraged looks.

"It wasn't…" they both began at once, and then stopped.

"It… it wasn't _planned_ Professor. Neither of us _knew_ the other one was going to fire a jinx at the same time," James continued, after a pause, sounding as though he was struggling to keep his voice calm.

"You shouldn't have been firing jinxes at all!" Professor Clearwater was beginning, when Professor Sewell cleared his throat. They all looked at him, and followed his eyes to the other side of the room.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Good afternoon, Professor Clearwater, and... Professor... Sewell, I believe?"

"Good of you to come," Professor Clearwater's voice was frosty but polite, "Good afternoon, Mr Potter. Mrs Potter."

"Mum! Dad!" James burst out, looking wildly from one person to another, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We sent for them, Potter," said Professor Clearwater sternly, "Because this is a _very_ serious incident."

James ran his hand through his hair frantically.

"But…"

"Now, we are only waiting for Mr and Mrs Malfoy," Professor Clearwater interrupted, cutting across James as if he hadn't spoken.

"They'll be here any moment," came the deep voice of Professor Sewell, "They have gone to the Hospital Wing first, naturally..."

"Professor…" Scorpius looked up, his face desperately worried, "How's my sister?"

"She'll live," said Professor Sewell shortly, "As will Parker, apparently, luckily for the two of you. Unlike Miss Malfoy, however, he has had to be removed to St Mungo's..."

"Professor Clearwater," Harry interrupted firmly, "What exactly is going on?"

Professor Clearwater looked severely at him, and he was inadvertently reminded of the days, back in his first three years at Hogwarts, when Penelope Clearwater had been the strictest prefect in the school.

"Your son, Mr Potter," she said with great emphasis, "has been responsible for seriously injuring and hospitalising a fellow student. An absolutely indefensible attack from behind, combined with Mr Malfoy's simultaneous attack. Mr Parker could easily have been killed. It is only good fortune that he wasn't. I've never seen the like of it before!"

"Why?" Ginny asked, in the silence that followed, looking at James.

"Because he'd just knocked our Seeker off her broom!" James exploded, "_After_ the game had finished. _She_ could have been killed! And all I meant to do was jinx him. Is it my fault _he_ decided to try the same thing at the same time, and that somehow the two hexes we used… did something else?" He rounded on Scorpius, "Why couldn't you just have left it to me? _I'm_ her team captain!"

Scorpius stared at him.

"And I'm her _brother_, Potter."

"Fascinating though this conversation is," Professor Clearwater said coldly, "It is hardly the aspect of the incident that we are here to discuss. I feel that the two of you have failed to grasp the seriousness of what you have done. Whether either of you knew what the other was going to do is irrelevant. You both fired powerful jinxes at a fellow student, without warning. That student was almost killed. We might easily have been talking about a charge of _murder_ here. If that had happened, I would have had no choice but to expel both of you, because you would be facing an Azkaban sentence. It is only luck that we are _not_ talking about a death, so I hope you can explain to me why I should not expel you both on the spot. And you, Potter... you are already on your last warning, or have you forgotten that? I told you quite clearly that one more incident would see you out of this school..."

Ginny gave a stifled exclamation, while Harry said quietly but firmly, "Professor Clearwater... if I could just ask what it is exactly that's led to this...?"

Penelope Clearwater turned back to him.

"You certainly can, Mr Potter, and I shall be happy to tell you..." she began severely, but at this moment, there was a knock at the door and she broke off. Harry glanced up as the door opened and came face to face with an extremely familiar figure. This was more than slightly surreal, he thought helplessly; he and Draco Malfoy were here for exactly the same reason, and for once it appeared that their sons had been fighting on the same side...

Draco's face was somewhat grim, and did not change as he looked around the room, although he gave the faintest nod of recognition as he spotted Harry and Ginny, and there was a slight flicker of something that might have been emotion when his eyes fell upon his son. He was alone, the reason for which he revealed immediately.

"My wife sends her apologies, Professor," he said stiffly, "She is staying with our daughter. I hope that my presence is sufficient..."

Professor Clearwater merely nodded curtly at this, although her tone softened slightly as she asked, "And how is Iseult, Mr Malfoy?"

"She has concussion and a broken wrist," Draco replied reluctantly, with another glance across at Harry, "Nothing that Madam Booth can't repair. It could have been much worse..."

"I'm glad to hear that," Professor Clearwater's voice once more took on a hard tone, "Jasper Parker, on the other hand, is currently in St Mungo's, suffering from severe burns, among other injuries. I am not excusing his actions, but this is a very serious incident. Particularly for one of you," her eyes dwelt on James, who swallowed, words failing him for once, "Indeed," she went on, "After the incident only the other week, when I warned you what the consequences would be if you..."

She was once more interrupted by a knock at the door, and looked round, annoyance in her expression. She had no chance even to speak again however, before the door opened to reveal two more figures. Neville Longbottom was accompanied by an elderly man with a neat grey beard and an abstracted expression, which was currently combined with one of worry. The two boys gazed on this figure with surprise that quickly turned to dismay.

Professor Morrison, Headmaster of Hogwarts, rarely took any part in the day to day running of the school; indeed, it was frequently joked among the students that he spent his days sleeping in his office. A lot of the time, he seemed largely unaware of what was going on in his own school, although it was generally acknowledged that he was a genius in the field of Ancient Runes. It was unusual for him to take any part in matters of discipline, and James wondered with a sinking heart what this appearance meant.

For a moment, there was silence in the room as Professor Morrison looked around, taking in the scene.

"Well..." he said at last, heavily, "This is most unfortunate..."

"Unfortunate? I would call it a little more than that, Professor," Penelope Clearwater said with cold politeness, not looking altogether pleased by this interruption by a power higher than herself. Neville, behind Professor Morrison, appeared to be attempting to signal something to Harry by small movements of his head, but what this was, Harry had no idea.

"Yes, yes..." Professor Morrison cleared his throat, "You are right as usual, Penny... A terrible thing to happen, especially after that poor child last week..." he shook his head, "All the same... We must not make any decisions in haste, must we?"

She looked most put out at this, but he was still talking.

"Boys, I think perhaps it would be best if you stepped outside for a few moments while we have a brief discussion with your parents. Just wait outside and we shall call you in when we need your input again."

Nobody present had ever heard Professor Morrison speak so firmly; he was well known for his vague indecisiveness. Scorpius cast a look around the room, his face as unmoving as his father's, then turned and left the room without a word. James looked as though he might argue, but happened to catch his mother's eye, gave up, and sloped out of the room after the other boy.

Outside, James leaned against the wall, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. There was a silence. Inside the office they could hear the murmur of voices, but none of the words. Scorpius stared up at the ceiling, then glanced at the older boy out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you use?" he asked at last.

James glanced at him, taken aback to hear Malfoy speak politely to him.

"Stinging Jinx," he muttered, at last. Scorpius thought about this.

"Oh... I used a Backfiring Jinx. I wonder why they did that when they were used together..."

James shrugged, but did not comment. The whole thing was dreadful enough without having to bond with Scorpius Malfoy.

"Glad your sister's okay," he said at last, gruffly, perhaps the only time in his life he had said anything remotely civil to the other boy.

"Yeah... well, she will be," Scorpius agreed quietly.

"Parker's a bloody bastard," James added.

That being the only obvious thing to agree on, conversation languished. Both were thinking uneasily about what was going on behind that closed door.

They couldn't really be going to be expelled, James thought. All he had done was fire a Stinging Jinx at Parker. It wasn't his fault that Malfoy had chosen to fire a jinx at the same time, and that the two had created some strange reaction together. Or Malfoy's fault either, he added mentally, trying to be fair. Neither had known what the other would do. They had done plenty of worse things before, usually to each other. The trouble was, these little things added up, and his record was pretty appalling. He'd never really worried about it in the past. Detentions didn't bother him, and he'd always taken it for granted that that was all there would ever be. Or so he'd always thought. But Clearwater never went back on her word, and he was already on his last warning...

She was going to expel him, he thought, with a sick horror. What would his parents say? They would be on his side over this incident, he was sure of it, but if Professor Clearwater decided to go over some of his past misdemeanours, he wasn't sure he could expect the same understanding. And being expelled... it didn't just mean leaving Hogwarts a few months earlier than expected. When you were expelled, your wand was snapped, wasn't it? You were an outcast... forbidden from every doing magic... The thought was horrible.

Scorpius tried to keep his thoughts blank. Expelled. They might be expelled. He let himself think the words without allowing them to break into his emotions. He flashed an irritated glance at Potter. If only the idiot hadn't decided to try and play the gallant Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and come to the rescue of his Seeker…

No, that wasn't fair. Potter hadn't done anything worse than he had, and he had been defending Issie. Which was a bit ironic really, given Potter's feeling about the Malfoys. Maybe if he'd had time to realise who he was defending, he wouldn't have done it. Or else, more probably, his need to be seen as the chivalrous hero was so great that he couldn't help himself in these situations, whoever else was involved.

Scorpius wasn't sure whether he was in as much danger of expulsion as Potter. His record certainly wasn't as bad, and he wasn't on his last warning (as Potter apparently was); he was a Prefect. On the other hand, Clearwater had appeared to be talking to both of them when she had first mentioned expulsion. Well, he thought cynically, at least if he was expelled he never needed to see his fellow Slytherins again. He suspected that some of them would consider his loyalties to have been sadly misplaced, given that he had attacked a member of his own team.

The door at their backs opened, and Neville Longbottom put his head out.

"Alright, boys. You can come back in."

James stood up, and they trailed back in, their nerves showing on both their faces despite their best efforts. This was it... the moment of reckoning, when they would know what their fates were to be... The faces of all the adults in the room were grave, but gave nothing away. There was a moment's long silence, and then Professor Morrison spoke.


	18. Consequences

**A/N: Thank you to ashley, Asterix Tutnix, KashmereBeauty, Messy Ink and Ember Nickel for the reviews! :) **

**A few of you made the same prediction about what would happen to James and Scorpius, and you'll find out whether you're right or not in this one. ;) Oh, and if you're puzzled by what I mean in the chapter tagline about the debt, I'm afraid you'd have to read my other story, Choices, because I'm evil like that. :P Or, if you really can't be bothered to do that, but want to know, they I guess you could ask me...**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Consequences**

**_In which Professor Morrison fulfils a debt, punishments are handed out, James has to talk to his parents, Harry tells an old story, and a Christmas Tree is delivered._**

"Well, boys. It's decided. Neither of you is going to be expelled. Under the circumstances, I think..." he glanced at his Deputy and coughed slightly. Professor Clearwater was looking very displeased at this unexpected turn of events. Professor Morrison usually left her to deal with all matters of discipline, and she liked it that way. Nobody, least of all Professor Clearwater, understood why he had suddenly taken an interest in this case. "Well," he continued, clearly changing what he had been going to say slightly, "Circumstances must be taken into account, as well as motives... I don't think your intentions merit expulsion. Of course," he cast them a stern look, "That doesn't excuse your actions. But I will leave it to Professor Clearwater to explain the rest of the decision..." he looked again at her, and she took over.

"Well, I hope both of you now realise the seriousness of what you have done," she said, with stiff disapproval in her voice, "We have discussed your conduct with your parents, and I am sure that they too will have things to say to you," Scorpius glanced nervously at his father, whose face was a blank mask, but the professor turned her gaze to James, "I must add that you, Mr Potter, are especially lucky to be getting away with this, after the warning you received last time. And Professor Morrison is agreed with me that this is the very last chance you will be getting. On the other hand, you, Mr Malfoy, are a Prefect, and therefore this sort of conduct has more serious implications. In fact, you are both in positions of influence and responsibility. When we give you that kind of responsibility, we expect you to act as role models for younger students, not to spread a disruptive influence and an idea that it is acceptable to take the law into your own hands. Your actions were very wrong, and extremely unbecoming to your ages and positions.

"You are not, as Professor Morrison said, expelled. However, you have each lost fifty points for your houses, and you both have detentions every Tuesday and Thursday between now and Easter. Potter, that will be on top of the detentions you still have to serve for the last incident you were involved with.

"You are also temporarily relieved from your positions of authority. If your conduct is perfect, we will consider reinstating you, but for the moment, neither of you is either Prefect or Quidditch Captain, and you will both give me your badges now. You will both miss the next Quidditch match entirely. Oh yes, and I'm taking fifty points from each of your houses."

She sat back and looked at two stunned faces in front of her.

James's head was spinning. He wasn't expelled. That was such an immense relief that for a moment, he could feel nothing else, and wanted to laugh out loud. But as the rest of the pronouncement sank in, the relief was mingled with horror and he didn't know how to feel. Detention, he didn't mind in the least (although with his other detentions, he would be lucky if he got any free time at all between now and Easter). But he was no longer Quidditch Captain and to his shame, the news made him want to cry.

He had been so proud. It had been his ambition since First Year, and he had made it. It was the only ambition from his childhood days that had stayed bright and real. The Quidditch team was _his_ team. He swallowed hard and blinked, as he slowly unpinned the badge from his tie and laid it down on the desk. It was all very well for her to say that it was temporary; James only had a few months left at school, and there was only one match left of the tournament. He was to miss that match anyway, Captain or not. That was it – just like that, it was over.

* * *

Harry and Ginny had, like Draco, sat silently through Penelope Clearwater's pronouncement. Their eyes had mostly been on their son, waiting for him to look at them, but he had not. Ginny's heart had clenched, knowing just from the way he held his shoulders, that he was terrified. She knew that he had done a very stupid thing, although to be honest she thought that she would probably have reacted in the same way. She knew – because Professor Clearwater had just told them, in blunt detail – that his general behaviour was not at all what she would desire. She knew that her suspicions on the platform at Kings Cross had been justified, and that James had been behaving like an arrogant bully. And she was angry with him, she really was, and she'd tell him so later.

But just then, as he sat there, tense and miserable, he was just her little boy again, and she had willed him to look round, so that she could reassure him. He hadn't. When both had laid their badges down, Professor Clearwater leaned back in her chair and told the boys that they could go, and James was up and out of his chair and out of the door before another word could be spoken, still without looking at them. Ginny jumped up and followed him. Nobody stopped her. Scorpius, slower to leave, looked round at the people still in the room, grey eyes expressionless.

"If that's all you needed to discuss," said Draco Malfoy pointedly to Professor Clearwater, "My daughter is still in the hospital wing…"

"Yes, of course," agreed Professor Clearwater, "Thank you for coming."

They left the room together, Harry slightly ahead of the Malfoys. He and Draco made no effort to speak to one another. Instead, he strode down the corridor to where James and Ginny had come to a halt. James had his back to the wall, and Ginny was standing in front of him, her hazel eyes blurred with tears. His, so very similar to his mother's, were hard and bleak and stared off over her shoulder.

"Please, Mum. I don't want to talk about it…" he was saying, his voice taut.

"Tough," Harry said tersely, making his son jump, "We want to talk to you, and this is one of the things we want to talk about."

The Malfoys passed them; Draco ignored them, and Scorpius gave them a single glance and then followed his father in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Neville emerged from the room behind them, looking perturbed.

"Harry..." he muttered quietly, "If you want to use my office..."

Harry glanced round and gave his old friend a grateful nod. This wasn't the place to have this sort of conversation, and Neville's office was, he knew, just along the next corridor.

"Thanks, Neville. Come on, Jamie," he said a little more gently. He waited for his son to go first so that there was no escape. As though he might make a run for it, James thought with a twinge of angry amusement. His father was an Auror through and through.

Neville ushered them into his office and then left them to it, telling them to take as long as they needed before he left, closing the door behind him.

"Sit," said Harry, pointing at the small sofa beside the fire. Suddenly realising that he was hungry, cold – it had been misting gently outside, and his Quidditch robes were damp – and very, very tired, James slumped onto the seat, and ran his hand despondently through his hair.

"Oh Merlin. I'm sorry," he said miserably. Once again, the enormity of what had just happened flooded through his brain. He wasn't Quidditch Captain any more. All that worrying about being the only Potter captain not to win the cup, and now he was the only Potter captain to get the sack. His team. No longer his team. His mother sat down beside him and put a hand on his arm.

"Jamie…" she began, then broke off.

"I'm not sure what you're apologising for," Harry put in mildly, "Would you like to be more explicit?"

James stared at his father.

"For… for all this," he waved an arm around, "For you having to come up here. For being such a stupid waste of space. For letting you down." He finished almost inaudibly.

"For hospitalising another student?" Ginny asked, after a slight pause.

He looked warily at her.

"I'm not sorry for firing a Stinging Jinx at him. He deserved that. I'm sorry it went so badly, but that wasn't my fault."

There was a silence for a moment, then Harry spoke.

"James," he said heavily, "Don't think for a moment that I was an angel at school; you know I wasn't. Your mother and I both did our fair share of hexing people when we were your age – although actually, we were fighting Lord Voldemort by the time we were your age, so there wasn't much harmless hexing going on…" James shifted uncomfortably. He had heard often enough about the war. He knew perfectly well that, compared to what his parents and uncles and aunts and the rest had been by his age, he was a spoilt child. He didn't need to hear it again now.

"But what I was going to say," continued Harry, ignoring his son's impatience, "is that once, when I was in my Sixth Year, I did something that I regretted bitterly afterwards. I didn't mean to do it, but it was my fault. And it almost got me expelled."

James looked bemusedly at his father. He had never heard this story. He wasn't sure his mother had either, from the surprised expression on her face.

"I fired a curse," Harry went on, "at Draco Malfoy – Scorpius' father. There were plenty of 'extenuating circumstances' as your Aunt Hermione would put it. He was about to use the Cruciatus curse on me, and I reacted instinctively, in self defence. I used a curse I had read in a book. I knew nothing about it, except that it claimed to be for use against enemies. I didn't know what it would do, but I'd been using the book all year, and everything else I'd found in it had been very useful. It nearly killed him. Sliced his chest open. I thought it _had_ killed him. I was horrified. I'd never meant to murder him, only to defend myself. But if I had been expelled for that, I can only say that it would have been deserved. I acted out of thoughtlessness and anger, not malice and cruelty. But what I did was horrific, and if Draco Malfoy had died, I would never have forgiven myself."

James was silent. Thoughtlessness and anger. That was what had made him jinx Parker today. But it was not always that. Sometimes… there was only malice. Not cruelty, he told himself insistently, he wasn't cruel. But the other motives could have consequences just as devastating. That was what his father was trying to say. And he was right. Would James ever have forgiven himself if Parker had died? He shouldn't be feeling relieved that he was not expelled, or upset because he had lost the captaincy. He should be feeling happy that he was not a killer. He should be resolving to think twice before jinxing people in the future, because this sort of accident could happen any time.

He nodded slowly, and Harry was silent, seeing that the lesson had gone in.

"Jamie," Ginny broke into the pause, "You are _not_ a stupid waste of space. There are so many good, wonderful things about you. And I'm not sure why, but you just seem to have gone to a huge effort to hide them, and to make yourself seem… seem…"

"Like an arrogant, heartless prat?" Harry put in cheerfully, his tone quite different from the grave one he had been using a moment or two ago, "Not that that's how you seem to us, but then we know you a bit better than most people do. Seriously though, Jamie," he sat down on the other side of his son, "You need to start sorting your act out. You're eighteen. All that stuff Professor Clearwater told us, about the way you behave? We weren't too impressed, if I'm honest, James. You need to get a bit of a sense of responsibility. You can't pretend you're thirteen for the rest of your life."

"Now," Ginny squeezed his arm again, "Come on. We want to see Al and Lily before we go."

He did not stand up immediately. He stared at each of them, as though trying to work something out.

"Are you… angry with me, or not?" he asked eventually. They looked ruefully at each other.

"To be honest, James, I think we're more disappointed than angry," said Ginny at last, "And more than either of those, we're very sorry for you."

He stared at the ground.

"You don't need to be," he muttered, "Detention? I've had plenty before. And I'm only missing one match."

"And you don't mind losing the captaincy at all, of course?" Harry said, sceptically.

He did not reply, but leaned forwards and buried his face in his hands, the hot, shameful tears that had been threatening for a while, suddenly spilling over.

"Oh, Jamie!" Ginny put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. After a few moments, he was more or less in control again.

"Sorry," he said, in a muffled voice.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny said affectionately, "You don't need to be sorry. It's _us_."

"Just out of interest," said Harry, casually, "Was the match actually over when this, er, incident occurred?"

"Oh. Yes," James looked up, "We won. I forgot about that."

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Does that mean that Iseult Malfoy caught the Snitch?"

James nodded. "Yes. It was pretty amazing actually. She did a Round-the-World Roll without losing sight of the Snitch," he smiled faintly at his mother, "Like the Harpies do."

Both his parents looked impressed.

"Impressive," Harry commented, "Where on earth did she learn that?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know. But it was bloody genius."

* * *

James returned to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was very quiet, considering that they had just beaten Slytherin at Quidditch. Nobody was celebrating or partying. The First Years, bereft of one of their number, were sitting huddled in a corner, talking quietly amongst themselves. Alice appeared to have been crying.

The quiet buzz of talk died as James entered.

"Jamie!" Lily jumped up and rushed over to her brother, flinging her arms round him in a hug that was so unexpected that it took him a moment before he returned it briefly. "What happened?" she demanded, "Are you being expelled?"

James flinched. You might as well expect manners from Peeves as tact and sensitivity from Lily.

"No," he said shortly, stepping away from her, "I'm not being expelled. But I want to go and have a shower. I haven't washed since the match. And Mum and Dad want to see you..."

Lily frowned.

"Mum and Dad? They're here?" her eyes widened, "They got Mum and Dad in? Jamie..."

"James," Fenella's voice from behind Lily was quiet, "Where's your Captain's badge?"

James swallowed hard.

"I'm not Captain anymore," he said, in harsh tones loud enough to be heard by everyone around them, "I'm not expelled, but I lost the Captaincy..."

"_What_?" It was an exclamation by most of the Quidditch team.

"That's so unfair!" Emilia burst out, "They can't do that! You were only sticking up for Iseult!"

James laughed humourlessly.

"Well obviously they _can _do that, because they just have. And it's better than being expelled..."

Those who knew him well were not even remotely convinced by his attempt at nonchalance, and Louis and Fenella exchanged glances.

"Well, it won't change anything," a voice spoke clearly and unexpectedly, and everyone turned to find Sapphie Jordan, her eyes alight with a hard fire, "Because whoever's wearing the badge, the team knows you're the captain, James. You've been captain for more than two years, and you've deserved it. You might not be it in name any more, but you'll still be leading the team, and we'll still be following you..."

There was a startled silence at this show of public support from such an unexpected source; James and Sapphie had not spoken for months, except when strictly necessary. James looked as if he might be trying to laugh it off, but couldn't quite manage it, though his tone was forcedly flippant.

"Well... thanks, Sapphie. But I won't actually be playing the next game, because I have a one match ban. And we've only got one match left of the season, and then I'm leaving. So, nice of you to say that, but… I won't really be much of a captain. Now I'm going for a shower."

And he disappeared up the stairs towards his dormitory.

* * *

Iseult stared at the ceiling of the hospital wing, feelings churning about inside her. Scorpius was in a lot of trouble – although he wasn't going to be expelled – and their father was angry with him for betraying his house and dragging his parents up here. And James Potter was in trouble too, for defending her apparently. Her whole body still ached, despite Madam Booth's best efforts. And she suspected that the Slytherins were going to be more unpleasant than usual to her now.

But… she had caught the Snitch. _She _had caught the Snitch and won the match for Gryffindor. She had beaten Scorpius, for perhaps the first time in her life. A grin spread across her face at the thought. Nothing could spoil this feeling.

She had been knocked out when the Bludger hit her. She had no memory of falling off her broom, or hitting the ground. She had opened her eyes to find Lily and Madam Hooch bending over her, looking concerned. Then horrible pain had flooded through her, and tears had welled up in her eyes and spilled over. She had whimpered, and felt Lily take her hand; the one without the broken wrist. Everything had hurt so much, and she had wanted her mum, and then she was being taken up to the hospital wing, and she had clung to Lily's hand as the next best thing to her mum being there, and begged the older girl not to leave her.

So Lily had stayed, while Madam Booth had mended Issie's wrist and put some sort of salve on her head, and on the worst of her bruises, and given her a foul tasting potion to drink. She had stayed until Issie's parents had appeared at the door, and then slipped off. Her mother had stayed with her while her father went off, apparently to see Scorpius, but he had returned, with her older brother and the relieving news that Scorp was not going to be expelled. There had been tension there – Scorpius had been quiet and unhappy, and their father had not spoken to him much. But they had been making an effort for her, after her accident, and it had been very nice to see them, although she had been disappointed that baby Caelum had been left at home with the house elves.

But now they were gone, and Iseult was left to ponder a few things. The first was that she was elated by Gryffindor's victory, and felt no regret at all about beating the Slytherins, even her brother. Yes, Gryffindor was definitely her place now.

The second was the disconcerting fact that James Potter, of all people, had jumped to her defence. It didn't, of course, erase all the other, less kind, things he had done, but still. She almost felt a little guilty about some of the things she had thought about him. He wasn't _all_ bad...

Then there was her mum. Iseult couldn't believe that she was the only one to have noticed it, but Dad wouldn't say anything even if he had, and she suspected that Scorpius was trying to protect her or something. Mum looked _ill_. It was over three months since Caelum had been born; weeks since he had been back at home. But Astoria Malfoy still looked almost sick with worry, and Issie couldn't imagine what she was worrying about. She knew what Scorpius would say; that their mother had been worried because Iseult had just fallen from a great height from her broom, and could have been killed. But it wasn't that, Issie knew it wasn't. For one thing, she was fine. For another, her mother had looked just the same at Christmas. And Issie still remembered the conversation she had overheard. It was all related, she was sure of it, and she wanted to do something to help, but she did not know how...

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a scuffling outside the door of the Hospital Wing, and Madam Booth's voice.

"I'm afraid that Iseult is resting at the moment – she's had plenty of visitors already and she needs to sleep..."

There was a murmur of voices, amid which the clarion tones of Lucy Weasley could be heard above the rest.

"But we brought it _specially..._!"

"Well, I shall deliver it if you want," Issie thought she heard amusement in Madam Booth's voice, "But if you want to see her, you can come back tomorrow. I hope she might be almost ready to leave by then..."

The voices were disappointed, but they gradually faded. Issie was also disappointed. She had identified the voices of both Jake and Alice in among the rest, and she wanted to see them. However Madam Booth appeared at the door holding their offering – which appeared, to Issie's surprise and entertainment, to be a Christmas Tree. It was very small – just a branch off a larger tree, by the looks of it, but it was colourfully decorated and standing in a small pot with a red bow tied round it.

Issie burst into delighted giggles at the sight of it; it hurt her bruises to laugh, but it dissipated the worry of a few moments before.

"Your friends in the First and Second Year have just delivered this," Madam Booth also sounded amused, "They wanted to see you, but I told them to come back tomorrow. Miss Weasley informed me, and I quote, 'we wanted to get flowers, but there are none out and none of us are that good at Transfiguration, so we got you a branch instead.' I did try to tell them that I thought the Christmas season was over, but they were most insistent that you got it... I believe that that parcel tied to it may contain something from Honeydukes..."

"It's lovely," Issie said happily, grinning as she imagined her friends hacking at tree branches in the grounds. It was Lucy's idea of course – Lucy's ideas were always mad but wonderful. And they had wanted to get her something – not just Alice and Jake, who were her best friends, but all of them.

Yes, she had spoken the truth in answer to the question her father had asked her that day back in October.

Come what may, she was happy in Gryffindor.


	19. A Very Scottish Tradition

**A/N: Thanks to AuntMo and KashmereBeauty for the latest reviews. I know I say it all the time, guys, but I really appreciate reviews. I'm always hungry for feedback on my stories, so I would love it (and you) if you took the time to let me know what you think, whether it's good or bad. It also lets me know you're still here, reading, and that I'm not just throwing my chapters into an empty void. I bake virtual brownies for those who review.**

* * *

The village of Kilmary was more an elongated string of houses along a hillside than a compact village. At the centre of it was the Parish Church, with the small white building that was the Free Church just a little further down the hill. There was a tiny village shop with a corrugated iron roof and two petrol pumps, a pub with a bunkhouse attached, a Primary School that boasted around twenty pupils, and a newly built Community Hall situated just outside the village. It was reachable only along a winding single-track road, across which black-faced sheep and the occasional Highland cow wandered freely.

Its residents were, of course, wholly unaware that just up the valley was another village. There was no road to Hogsmeade (it was only relatively recently that it had become at all common for witches and wizards to own vehicles) and its houses and lights were hidden from Muggle eyes, just as Hogwarts was. The Muggles knew that there was some kind of ruined building up there, by the side of the loch, but it was uninteresting; it featured in no tourist leaflets, there was no information about it online, no archaeology had ever been done there, and no tourists ever visited. It was generally assumed to be nothing but an old stone barn that had fallen into disuse and subsequently into disrepair. A sign informed anyone who strayed that way that it was dangerous, and strangely enough, nobody had ever ignored the sign, not even disaffected teenagers looking for somewhere to drink their cheap cider.

It was mostly walkers and mountaineers who stayed at the bunkhouse in Kilmary, but on this occasion they had been booked out by a school group; a bunch of English teenagers and their teachers on a Geography field trip. It was early for a field trip, only March, and the weather was still cold and damp, but the mood of the kids seemed to be cheerful and enthusiastic. The owner of both bunkhouse and bar had had to be firm about having no under eighteens in the pub after 8pm, but, she added, there was a big event in the Community Hall at the end of the week, which they were more than welcome to attend – it was a ceilidh, that traditional Scottish community party, and there would be live music from a traditional local band, and dancing of course. There would be alcohol served, but it was a family event, she assured the two young teachers in charge, so that wasn't the focus of the night for a lot of people. She directed them to the posters about the event, which were plastered everywhere from the church notice boards to the bus shelter to random trees beside paths. This was, it appeared, Kilmary's big event of the year, to celebrate the end of winter and the start of the tourist season, on which the whole area depended.

Lisa Addison, the Geography teacher who had organised the trip (although Hazel Kitson had been very helpful in doing research about the place they were going) had been to ceilidhs in Scotland before, and was sceptical about alcohol not being the focus of the night for most people there. However, the kids had seen the posters for the event, and were enthusiastic. Most, it turned out, had brought a smart outfit, 'just in case', and didn't want to waste it, and in any case, as she pointed out to Mr Stephens, her colleague who had accompanied her, they were a reasonably responsible bunch, as teenagers went. She didn't think they'd risk buying alcohol and drinking it in front of their teachers, and if they did, it wouldn't be likely to be a lot.

So she resignedly agreed that if they worked hard and behaved themselves through the week, they could finish up with the party at the end of it.

She might have had second thoughts about her trust in her pupils if she had been in the girls' room that night. Unfortunately, Hazel had discovered that her phone had little or no signal in the Highlands. She had managed to find a small pocket if she walked to the top of the hill and held it up in the air, and had sent Scorpius a quick message to inform him of this fact and to send him the phone number of the bunkhouse if he needed to contact her urgently. She knew he wouldn't want to do that; he disliked talking on the phone, partly because it increased his risk of getting caught, and partly because he was always worried he was going to do something wrong when talking to other non-magical people. She was not altogether surprised, therefore, when they returned to the bunkhouse that night, she glimpsed Scorpius' owl sitting perched in a tree just outside. She thought she was the only person to have noticed it, and it was certainly sitting very still; presumably, Scorpius had told him to wait and not to draw attention to himself (it always amazed Hazel how intelligent magical owls were).

She waited until the other girls were all asleep (which took some time) and then slipped out of bed and across to the window. Very quietly, hardly daring to breathe in case she made a noise and woke someone up, she eased it open. Her friends were aware that they were somewhere near Scorpius' school (some of them had met him in the past) and that she was hoping to meet up with him, but they were not, of course, aware of what kind of school it was he went to, or that he communicated by owl post.

The bird was there, waiting on the window sill.

Hazel wasn't sure whether Scorpius was wholly pleased at her being in Kilmary or not. She felt a bit guilty, because she supposed she was risking getting him into trouble, and it seemed that he was in quite a lot of trouble already, going by what he had told her about the Quidditch match the other week. By the time she had heard about that, though, the trip to Kilmary was already organised and paid for. And he seemed keen enough to meet up, though she doubted he would want her to come anywhere near Hogwarts. But his tone had been somewhat guarded, she thought; it was hard to tell in emails though. She was looking forward to seeing him and finding out what was really going on – he had given her the bare details of the incident and no more, which was a sign that he was bothered about it.

The letter the owl carried was short and to the point:

"What's the plan? – S"

Hazel grinned to herself. Rather than write a reply, she took the ceilidh poster she had swiped from the bar, folded it up small and gave it to the owl. Scorpius would get the idea, and hopefully he'd be able to sneak out on Friday night...

* * *

The general mood in Hogwarts was somewhat subdued. After the attack on Angharad, followed so closely by the incident on the Quidditch pitch, it seemed that everyone was a little wary and on edge. The Aurors were still attempting to find out who had attacked the Gryffindor Seeker – as well as Meri Hewitt earlier in the year - but there were no conclusions as yet, and students were still forbidden from moving around the grounds alone or after dark. Angharad herself finally returned to school after three weeks in St Mungo's, pale and thin and as quiet as ever, but there was no word either on what kind of curse she had actually been hit with. The assumption was that it was something fairly dark, but Angharad remembered little of the incident. She wasn't as strong as she had been, but after a conference between herself, James and Sapphie, she quietly returned to training with the Quidditch Team.

Sapphie and James seemed to have reached some sort of tacit understanding, the terms of which included not mentioning any of what had happened between them, and not being seen talking by either Albus or Rose. Whatever awkwardness there might be between them, Quidditch was too important to them both to let it suffer. Anyway, James' misfortune over losing his captaincy seemed to have softened a lot of people towards him, including Sapphie, who in fact had been named captain in his place. She stuck to her pronouncement that James was captain in everything but name, though, and consulted him in every decision made.

Privately, though, Lily told Meri that practices were not going well. Sapphie would have made a good captain, and James made a good one himself when he was actually in charge, but having it split like that wasn't helping. And morale, it seemed, was at rock bottom. James was their best player, and without him nobody could see how they could possibly win their final match. They had already lost one game, so if they didn't win the last one, they wouldn't stand a chance at the cup. James himself was gloomy and miserable, which meant that his leadership was hardly inspiring, and it would take a long time before Angharad was fully fit again.

Parker also returned from St Mungo's, although he was seen showing remaining burn marks on his arms to his friends. Slytherin House in general was seething about what had happened, their only comfort in knowing that James Potter had not exactly come out of it victorious. Scorpius appeared a day or two after the match sporting a half healed cut over one eye, but he said nothing about how he had received it, and simply went on keeping as low a profile as possible, regardless of all the small hexes that came his way from members of his own house.

His main concern was for Iseult, who after all had been the main reason Slytherin had lost the Quidditch match, but other than a few nasty comments from members of her own year, it seemed that they were not targeting her. Scorpius suspected that the older students were worried for their own skin if they went for a First Year who had already been made a target in front of the entire school. Parker's stay in St Mungo's seemed to be seen as something of a punishment in itself, but he had not got away with his actions entirely; he too was facing a one match ban (leaving Slytherin two players down for their final game) for his attack on the First Year, and it would not be looked lightly upon if anything more happened to Iseult Malfoy.

The only remotely good thing to come from the whole affair was that Rose and Albus appeared to think that James' current suffering made up somewhat for his past crimes. Rose was speaking to both him and Sapphie again, and the two brothers had been spotted having a conversation, though nobody knew whether they had talked about what had happened or not.

Scorpius had told Hazel what had happened, but he had been unable to bring himself to go into detail. It was all such a horrible, stupid mess. He'd never cared much about being Prefect, but to lose it was humiliating, especially when certain of his housemates wouldn't let him forget about it. And he disliked detentions; some people might take that sort of thing in their stride, but Scorpius resented the loss of his free time, especially when he had to spend the time in James Potter's company instead. Potter might have defended Issie, but that didn't mean Scorpius had to like him.

In everything that had been happening, he had almost forgotten about Hazel's planned trip, and the message telling him that she was on her way north came as a surprise. He wasn't sure what to make of her plan; it would be good to see her, but on the other hand... it would mean sneaking out, for one thing, and it wouldn't be pretty if he was caught. And he wasn't sure what she was expecting; she knew he couldn't show her Hogwarts... He suspected that she had just wanted to see if her detective work had hit the mark and brought her to the right place, which of course it had.

But she was coming, and he couldn't _not _see her. He didn't _want_ to not see her. Cal and Danny were good friends, very good friends, but he'd known Hazel since he was six. They understood each other in a way nobody else did; Danny had teased him once, asking if Hazel was his girlfriend and that was why he never seemed that interested in girls at Hogwarts, but it wasn't like that and never would be. Hazel was just his best friend – except that there was nothing 'just' about it. So he sent her the note, giving his owl strict instructions only to approach her if she was alone, and waited for a response.

When it came, he was slightly confused by it. For one thing, he'd never heard of a ceilidh (he didn't even know how to say it), but from the information on the poster she'd sent, it was some kind of Muggle party, which was being held in the village. You had to pay for a ticket, apparently, and he wasn't sure how she thought he was going to get hold of any Muggle money.

He showed it to Danny and Calypso, but their response wasn't quite what he'd expected.

"That sounds good!" Danny said enthusiastically, taking the poster and looking at it, "A party! We haven't had a party in ages... There's been nothing fun at all going on recently..."

"That's true," Calypso agreed, looking over his shoulder, "Everyone's been miserable as hell."

"Well, there are reasons for that..." Scorpius pointed out. Danny shrugged.

"Sure. But come on. Let's lighten up a bit. Anyway," he grinned at Scorpius, "We get to meet the famous Hazel..."

Scorpius rolled his eyes and wondered what Danny would say if he knew how hard Hazel had been trying to find out who – if anyone – Scorpius fancied (which led to the uneasy thought that Issie had probably told Hazel what she had found out, and that Hazel might well bring it up).

"You're up for going then?" he questioned them, though he already knew the answer really; it was in their faces and tones.

"Definitely!" Danny said at once, "I mean, it'll be simple enough, right? This Kilmary place isn't far – we can sneak out and go by broom."

Calypso was nodding.

"Yeah... and if your friend's okay to lend us the money, Scorp, we can get some changed and give her it back..."

Scorpius sighed, unable to resist in the face of his friends' instant assumption that this was happening. After all, it _would _be fun to see Hazel, and who knew, maybe the party would be good too. And some fun _would_ be quite welcome at the moment...

They were sitting in the library, talking in hushed voices. It was nearly empty, and the only people visible were a group of Third Year Ravenclaws searching through the Potions section for some book or other. None of them noticed the figure behind the nearest set of shelves. He had not even set out to listen to their conversation; he had been looking for a book he needed for his Charms essay, but the word 'party' had caught his ears, along with the furtive tones they were using. Rather than emerge and show himself, though, he moved quietly in the other direction, away from them, and emerged from the shelves near the door. The conversation over, the three Slytherins had drifted back to the work they were doing, and none of them even looked up as Louis Weasley left the library, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Scorpius managed to find a private corner that evening where he could call Hazel in relative safety. He was a little surprised at himself – he'd always broken the odd rule, of course (he was fairly sure, for example, that it was probably against the rules to have Muggle technology in the school), but he had never broken them quite as blatantly as this, or broken as many all at once. And he was on dangerous ground already; not quite as dangerous as James Potter, and he didn't think he'd get expelled for using a phone (at least he hoped not), but he didn't want any more detentions either.

He keyed in the number she had given him slightly nervously, not sure who would answer. It was a woman with a strong Highland accent, who shouted at someone else on the other end of the phone (which hopelessly confused him for a moment), then told him to hold on, and a few minutes later Hazel's voice was on the other end. After the initial greeting, he started questioning her about the ceilidh (which she pronounced 'kay-lee').

"You don't know what a ceilidh is?" she said incredulously, "How long have you gone to school in Scotland, Scorp? Do you ever leave that castle?"

"Only to go to Hogsmeade," he said defensively, "And I've never heard them having... one of those there. So what is it exactly?"

"It's… a party. A kind of dance…" he groaned, and she hurried on, "No, Scorp, honestly, they're fun. I've been to them before with my parents. They're special Scottish parties. Very traditional, which is why you really _ought _to have been to one. They have traditional music, and Scottish dancing…"

"Sounds great fun," he said sarcastically.

"They really are!" she insisted, "Honestly. Trust me, Scorp. You just have a good time, and throw yourself around. None of us'll know the dances anyway, we'll just be having fun. And there'll be alcohol…"

"You're underage," he said, with a smirk.

"So are you, in the Muggle world," she retorted, "You have to be eighteen to drink. But this isn't some city bar, it's a nice civilised piece of country entertainment. I don't think they're going to be asking for ID. And Miss Addison's not going to notice so long as none of us get completely plastered. Not that that'll affect you, anyway; she's not your teacher. Anyway, can't you just, you know, magic yourself some ID? Please come, Scorp. It'll be so much fun if you do, I promise. Anna's here, and Alex and Mark. They all really want you to come. Anna's just come in. Hey, Anna, tell Scorpius he has to come tomorrow night! She says you have to come, Scorp... You could bring some of your friends too…"

"Okay, okay," Scorpius interrupted her excited flow of talk, "I'll come. And Cal and Danny want to come too, so I suppose there'll be the three of us. I can't promise we'll be there for the start, though; we might have trouble getting away. What time _does_ it start?"

"Oh, about half seven. Don't worry, though, it doesn't matter what time you turn up. I can't believe you're actually coming - it's going to be amazing!"

"It'll be great to see you," he agreed, smiling, "What sort of thing should we wear?"

"Oh…" she thought about this, "Well… it's a party, so pretty smart. I mean, not formal-ball-smart or anything. Just something fairly nice'll be fine. Most of the girls'll probably wear a dress or something. I don't think it matters too much. I expect a lot of the men'll be in kilts, but I doubt if you've got one of those. Just a shirt and a pair of smartish trousers, or nice jeans, would be okay. And shoes, not trainers. I suppose you could wear a tie, if you wanted to be a bit smarter still..."

Scorpius pulled a face, and then remembered that she couldn't see him.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'm not sure if I've even got any smart Muggle clothes though. And I'm pretty sure Dan won't have. But we'll manage something."

"Great. Oh, and Scorp… I've just told them that your friends are called Cal and Danny. They already think your name's weird enough; they won't get it if both your friends have weird names too. Listen, got to go, we're having dinner in a minute. But I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. See you there."

* * *

"Hey, Jamie!" James looked up to find Louis approaching him, blue eyes bright with excitement, his short blonde hair sticking up in spikes.

He raised his eyebrows.

"What's the matter?"

"I've got an idea. It'll be a laugh… And it'll annoy Malfoy and his cronies too…"

There had been something of a truce (or perhaps ceasefire would have been a better description) between James and Scorpius since the fateful Quidditch match. But so many years of fighting had left an intense dislike that could not just be forgotten, and habits were too hard to break. James' face broke into a slight smile, an expression that had been rare to find on his face in the last few weeks. Louis flung himself down on the sofa next to James and grinned at him, making no comment on his relief that James was actually showing interest in his idea – he had been so lacklustre about everything recently that Louis had been starting to worry about him.

"Right. Well, I just happened to overhear Malfoy talking to Urquhart and Zabini earlier. Seems like they're planning on sneaking out of school on Friday night…"

"Really?" James looked surprised, "That's not like them, is it? Thought Malfoy was the good little Prefect these days."

"Well, he's not a Prefect any more, is he?" Louis pointed out. James winced slightly at this reminder.

"Anyway, just listen for a minute," his cousin went on, "Apparently, there's this party in the Muggle village, that's open for anyone to go to..."

"They're going to a _Muggle_ party?" James interrupted in surprise.

"Who's going to a Muggle party?"

James turned, irritated at the interruption, to find his sister standing behind the sofa, looking enquiringly at them.

"Your boyfriend and his friends," he growled.

Lily frowned.

"_Who?_ I don't _have_ a boyfriend, James..."

Louis grinned.

"He's talking about _Malfoy_, Lil. You don't need to deny it…"

Lily glared furiously at him.

"Shut up, Louis. I've never done _anything_ with Scorpius Malfoy! I thought you lot'd stopped going on about that. But anyway, why would Malfoy be going to a Muggle party?"

"Well, I don't know, Lil," Louis smirked at her, "Why don't _you_ ask him…?"

"Oh, shut up," she told him again, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks had flushed red, "But what are you on about, a Muggle party? Are you going to it as well?"

"Well, we _were_ trying to have a private conversation..." Louis said a little pointedly.

"In other words, piss off, Lily," her brother put in, "It's none of your business."

She scowled at him, still put out about the comments on her and Scorpius Malfoy, which was something she had thought (and hoped) that everyone had forgotten about.

"It's as much my business as yours," she said stubbornly, "I quite like parties, actually. Maybe _I_ want to go."

"Don't be stupid," said James, annoyed, "You're too young."

She widened her eyes appealingly.

"I only want to _know_, Jamie…" she said innocently, "Go on, tell me!"

It was Louis who told her in the end, grudgingly and mostly to get rid of her. Her eyes sparkled.

"That sounds fun. I'm definitely going!"

"No, you're _definitely_ not," James corrected her.

"Why, _are_ you lot going to go then?"

James and Louis looked at each other.

"Maybe…" said James, cautiously. Lily raised her eyebrows.

"To have fun, or to annoy Malfoy?"

James shrugged.

"Why not both? But _you're_ not going."

Lily looked irritated.

"You can't tell me what to do, James. If I want to go, I'll go."

"Oh, _I_ get it," Louis broke in, grinning, "She wants to go because _Malfoy's_ going. I wouldn't get any ideas, Lily. James is going to be there too, remember? If you and Malfoy get too cosy, your boyfriend might end up with no balls, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that…"

Lily didn't even bother glaring at her cousin this time; she decided that retreat was the most dignified form of defence, and departed in great indignation. James looked uneasily after her.

"You don't think she'll really try and come, do you?"

Louis shrugged.

"Doubt it. She'll probably have forgotten about it by tomorrow. And if she mentions it to Meri Hewitt, Meri'll tell her it's a stupid idea. Anyway, she won't want us to think there's _really_ anything going on with her and Malfoy. But you're up for going then?"

James thought for a moment, then grinned – a real grin this time.

"Yeah, why not? I'm sick of having no fun... Like you said, it'll be a laugh. And I can't wait to see Malfoy's face when we turn up..."

"What are you talking about?" They were interrupted once more; this time it was Fenella, and she was using her 'Head Girl' voice. James smiled ingratiatingly at her.

"Hey, Fen. We were just talking about this… erm… party we're thinking of going to."

Her eyes narrowed, obviously suspicious at this sudden improvement of James' mood.

"What party? I haven't heard about any party coming up. And what was that about Malfoy?" her eyes widened suddenly, "You're not going to try and crash some Slytherin party, are you? Because if so, you're a pair of idiots..."

"No!" James protested in an injured tone, "Why do you always assume the worst of us, Fen?"

"I'm not even going to bother answering that. What _are _you planning?"

James knew that she wouldn't approve; she was the Head Girl, after all. But Fenella had been one of his best friends since First Year, and although he might not always tell her everything, what he didn't do was lie to her.

"There's this Muggle party going on down in that village," he explained, "And Louis's just found out that Malfoy and co. are planning on going. So we're going to go too, just to see his face. I reckon it'll be pretty good fun too though. I've never been to a Muggle party before. You never know; there might be some fit girls there..."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," Louis grinned, "They'll probably all be over sixty five."

"You mean you're not hoping for some handsome young Highland lad?" Fenella asked Louis, in amusement. The blonde-haired boy looked thoughtful.

"Well, that's an idea. They wear those kilt things too, don't they? They're quite hot…"

"So… are you going to come with us, Fen?" James asked teasingly, "Fancy a Highland lad in a kilt yourself?"

She looked almost regretful.

"I can't. You know I can't. I'm Head Girl. And it's breaking about a dozen rules," she frowned suddenly, "And James, you can't go either! You mustn't! You're supposed to be behaving yourself, remember? If you get caught…"

"We won't get caught," said James, impatiently, "it's only one night, Fenella. I've been bloody perfect for weeks; I haven't put a toe across the line. I have to have a bit of fun sometimes!"

"James!" she looked incredulously at him, "This isn't some kind of _game_! We're not talking about a few more detentions here. You'd be _expelled_! It's not worth it, Jamie, it honestly isn't!"

"It'll only happen if I'm caught. And I won't be," he said obstinately, "And anyway, it's not like I'm doing anything _terrible_. A Muggle party? It's pretty harmless. Malfoy obviously thinks it's worth the risk, doesn't he? He's on basically the same warning as me."

"What Malfoy does is his own business…"

"And what I do is _mine_," James pointed out.

"James, do you ever _think_ about things properly?" she demanded angrily, "This is serious! It won't matter that it's harmless; you're breaking rules, and you're already on your last warning – you've already _passed_ your last warning! I thought what happened the other week might actually have been a bit of a wake up call for you, but obviously not! Are you ever going to grow up, Jamie? Have you even thought about what being expelled _means_? It wouldn't just mean you missed your last term, and left without NEWTs. They'd snap your _wand_! You'd never be able to do magic again…"

"Yes, I know what happens when you're expelled, Fenella," James sounded angry now, "You don't need to lecture me. I'm not going to get caught! And if I am, you can have the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so.' But stop trying to tell me what to do!"

He had risen to his feet, and now he stalked out of the Common Room. Fenella stared after him.

"He's like a little kid," she said frustratedly, "All he thinks about is having fun, and screw the consequences," she turned and looked accusingly at Louis, "Was this your idea, or his?"

"Um…" Louis looked nervously at her, "It was sort of mine…"

"Well, I think you must have gone mad," she said flatly, an undercurrent of fury in her voice, "And if it all goes wrong, you can know that it's your fault."


	20. Invading Kilmary

**A/N: Seems like I can only write this story in intense bursts with long gaps in between... Apologies once more for the long wait before this chapter. Hopefully this burst might be enough to get it finished.**

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one! And if you do, please leave me a review, they're very much appreciated...**

* * *

There was silence, as the four figures gathered together looked at each other. Three were women; the other a man. Of the women, one was smiling, the smile of someone who believes that they have won. The second looked dubious, even a little worried. The third wore a blank, frozen mask, although lurking behind it was an expression of haunted desperation. The man was sitting further away from the light, his face in shadow, his expression unreadable in the darkness.

"No..." the third woman spoke the word quietly, but with an air of finality, "Enough is enough. And it was enough a long time ago..."

"You keep saying that..." the first woman said complacently, "And yet somehow, you're still here. And we all know why, and we all know that you have no choice, so you might as well give up now."

"There are always choices," the other woman's voice was becoming more animated, though her face was still blank, "I've just been making the wrong ones. I should have said no at the beginning, when it was mindless violence. I won't be part of this... this _madness!_ Our own children are at Hogwarts..."

"No harm will come to your children," the second woman's voice was soothing, "Why should it? This is nothing to do with them."

"But harm will come to a lot of other people," the woman said angrily, "And if it should go wrong... if someone should be in the wrong place at the wrong time..."

"Why should they be?" the man leaned forwards for the first time, "If it all goes according to plan, nobody needs to get hurt at all. Although..." he smiled thinly at the protesting woman, "If you don't agree to help, there will be fewer of us; we'll be a little under staffed, so to speak. More chance of mistakes getting made... the wrong people getting hurt... And as you pointed out, your children are at Hogwarts..."

The woman was already pale, but now she went white, though when she spoke her voice was taut with suppressed emotion.

"So... you want to threaten me again. Well, I've had enough of your threats; I won't do it. I've already done enough for you. This is the end of it."

* * *

Later, when both she and the second woman were gone, the two remaining looked at one another.

"Well... seems we've lost her," the man drawled, a smile dragging at the corner of his mouth, "Can't say I'm surprised. So, are you going to tell me how you persuaded her to join us in the first place, or not?"

The woman gave an impatient movement.

"She's a fool. So are you."

Something in her tone made him look at her sharply.

"What makes you say that?"

She sneered at him.

"Oh, you still think I don't know about you and her? Naive... you're so naive. What did you think this was all about?"

He looked warily at her, his shock subsumed in something a little like fear.

"What are you going to do?"

She gazed at him for a moment.

"If she wants to play that game... We'll play it too. She thinks we're bluffing," she met his eyes, "I don't bluff."

Alarm registered in his expression.

"You're going to tell...?"

She laughed at him.

"Why? Worried, are you? Well, maybe you should be. But no, I'm not telling anyone; not yet, anyway. I have other ways... ways that don't involve you, so don't look so worried..." she smirked mockingly at him. He gritted his teeth.

"And are you going to tell me what those are? I am your husband..."

Her eyes glinted.

"I know that. But I don't think you're in a position to be calling the shots here..."

"So... you've moved onto blackmailing _me_ now...?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she spoke sharply, "If I wanted to blackmail you, you'd know about it."

"Then tell me..." he leaned back in his chair and looked at her, his expression torn between wariness and reluctant interest, "What _are_ you planning?"

She laughed, her mood suddenly seeming to improve.

"Well... here's an amusing fact. There are things I don't think our friends know about the way their children live their lives..."

"No... no," there was a definite note of alarm in the man's voice now, "No, you're taking this too far, bringing the children into it. We need to focus on the plan – that's the important thing..."

"To you," her voice had hardened again, "But there are other important things, and I've never been a very forgiving person, you know. Anyway... my idea helps the grand plan. I've already got half the others on board. They don't know why, of course. As far as they know, it's just a distraction, to allow us to carry out the rest of it – and of course, it's a bit of fun..."

"You haven't even told me what _it_ is yet," the man pointed out angrily, "But you can't just change the plans without telling me. I won't allow this to happen, whatever it is!"

She threw her head back and laughed mirthlessly.

"Oh, really? And who put you in charge? How are you going to stop us? Short of telling all our friends the truth..."

He was silent, his fists clenched tightly in anger. She had him beaten and he knew it.

"Good," she took his silence for the reluctant capitulation it was, and smiled smugly at him, "But don't worry, darling. It'll all work out. After all, it's all for the Dark League..."

* * *

A reconnaissance expedition to the Muggle village (knowing the secret passages and having Apparition licenses came in very handy) provided James and Louis with the time and venue of the ceilidh (gleaned from a poster stuck to a bus shelter). Louis, after his conversation with Fenella, had lost a little of his enthusiasm for the idea, and indeed attempted to put James off, but his cousin proved determined. The trouble with James, Louis thought to himself, was that when he was miserable, the only way he knew to cheer himself up and prove to the world that he didn't care was to do something mad and risky, and when he was in that sort of mood, common sense went out of the window. Adam had been persuaded to join them; Annabel would have liked to, but Fenella was her best friend, and in the end loyalty made her regretfully say no.

In the end, therefore, it was only the three boys who slipped out of school together that Friday night.

"You know," Adam remarked to James as they walked quietly down the secret passage out of the school, "I thought you and Malfoy had some sort of truce on at the moment..."

James stared at his friend.

"What?"

"Well..." Adam shrugged, "After what happened... I mean, you're both in the same boat, aren't you?"

James made a dismissive noise.

"Just because we both hexed the same guy, doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to turn round and like him. He stuck up for his little sister – that's about the least you could expect from a human being. Anyway," he shrugged and then grinned, refusing to let anything ruin his enjoyment of sneaking out of school for the first time for ages, "I'm not just going to piss Malfoy off – who cares about him? I plan on having fun. I bet they have alcohol at this thing..."

* * *

Kilmary Community Hall was lit up and busy. The hatch to the kitchen was doing a steady trade as a bar, even though the doors had only opened ten minutes previously, and the band was still warming up in the corner. The claim that it was a family event was verified by the fact that there were several children running about the place, and everyone was talking and laughing, smiles on every face.

Curious faces turned towards the three young men who entered the hall; they were certainly not locals, but neither had anyone seen them staying nearby. They were about the same age as the kids at the bunkhouse, but they did not appear to be members of that party, which had arrived a few minutes previously. Their clothes were on the casual side, being jeans and t-shirts under jackets, but that wasn't too unusual, and nobody's attention was caught for long. It was an unusual number of young people for a Kilmary ceilidh, but most people felt that that was a positive thing (although there were a few who made muttered comments about 'teenagers these days').

James, Adam and Louis looked round appreciatively as they entered. Never having been to a ceilidh before, they had not known what to expect, but the bar in the corner and the crowd of people around their own age made it seem like they might be able to have a good time. They did not have a huge amount of Muggle money, which might become a problem; all of them were in the habit of straying into the Muggle world from time to time, and they had managed to find enough between them (with some from Fenella and Annabel, exchanged for the Wizarding equivalent) to pay for their tickets, leaving a little spare, but it wouldn't pay for many drinks. However, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it (i.e., when they ran out of cash), and if the worst came to the worst, as Adam had remarked optimistically, they had wands, they all knew how to cast a Confundus Charm, and if they felt too guilty about essentially stealing drinks, they could always send some money to the hall funds at a later date.

"So much for them all being over sixty..." Adam muttered to Louis and James with a grin, glancing over at the crowd of teenagers who looked to be their own age at the most, and possibly a year or so younger, "Those don't sound like locals..."

"Nope," James interjected, "But they look like fun! Come on; let's make some friends..."

"D'you reckon Malfoy knew this lot would be here?" Louis watched James make his way (predictably) towards two girls standing near the bar. Adam looked surprised.

"What makes you say that?"

Louis shrugged.

"I don't know. Just seems weird, that Malfoy and the others would plan something like this – it's not like they normally break that many rules, at lease Malfoy doesn't himself. If they knew it was going to be a party with a bunch of other young people..."

"If they want to have a party with young people, it's not like there aren't a few of those at Hogwarts," Adam pointed out, "Anyway – these are _Muggles_. I seriously doubt that people like Malfoy and Urquhart go out of their way to hang around with Muggles..."

"But they still decided to come to a Muggle party," Louis countered.

Adam shrugged.

"I honestly have no idea. If it was some of the other Slytherins, I'd be worried they were coming to make some sort of trouble, but whatever those three are, I don't think they seem like that type. They don't go _looking_ for trouble. But anyway, _how_ would they have known there were going to other kids here? They couldn't have... And we've lost James," he changed tangent suddenly, looking over at where their friend had got to.

Louis followed his gaze and grinned wryly. They had not literally 'lost' James, since he was still fully visible, but they had certainly lost his attention and company.

"Of course we have," Louis remarked, "He's talking to pretty girls. And drinking," he added, as James turned towards the bar, "He's an idiot."

Of the two girls, one was slim and just a little shorter than James in the heels she was wearing, and dressed in a simple black dress and cardigan, light brown hair pinned up in a messy bun. The other was smaller, darker and curvier, and both seemed a little bemused but not entirely unwelcoming to James' sudden appearance beside them. One thing you could say about James, Louis thought, he could be charming when he wanted to be, and he was good at making friends. Their bemusement relaxed into laughter at some joke he had made, and a couple of others (a boy and a girl) from the large group had joined them. Nobody seemed to mind the advent of a stranger into the middle of them. Louis and Adam looked at each other.

"Coming?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Louis agreed, and they went to join their friend, just as a woman announced that the first dance was starting.

"D'you guys know the dances?" the dark-haired girl (who had just introduced herself as Anna; they hadn't got as far as announcing their names) asked, raising her voice over the sudden hubbub.

"Nope," James replied cheerfully, "Do you?"

"I've done them before," the other girl said, "But I wouldn't really say I know them..."

"Same here," said Adam unexpectedly with a grin, then shrugged as his two friends looked at him in surprise, "What? I've been to one before – they're not that unusual..." he said this last bit with the faintest pointed emphasis. The Carsons were halfbloods, but their father was a Muggle, with no wizarding blood in him at all, and they had had far more exposure to the Muggle world than either James or Louis.

"Are we dancing then?" Anna asked, glancing round with sparkling eyes, "Come on... we've got more girls than boys with us, we can pair you up if you want..."

The evening seemed to be set to progress pleasantly. James and the others had had a couple of drinks before setting out, and it seemed that some of the other teenagers had done the same thing, as they were not really permitted to buy anything from the bar. They were too late to join in with the first dance, and Louis managed to position himself as far away from the dance floor as possible, clearly planning on resisting any effort to get him to join in, to James' amusement. After a few drinks, he himself was not averse to dancing, even if it made him ridiculous.

There was, as yet, no sign of Malfoy and his friends, but James had stopped thinking about them, and hardly noticed their absence. Although he had, out of habit, jumped at the chance to annoy his old enemy, it seemed that some of the fun had gone out of it somehow, and really, as he'd suggested to Adam earlier, he'd much rather just enjoy his own evening and forget about the Slytherins. To his relief, there was no sign of Lily either.

He found himself sitting next to one of the first girls they had met, the lighter-haired of the two, as they watched the dancing. Some people there seemed to know exactly what they were doing, but there were others – probably other visitors – who were inept, which simply seemed to be causing a lot of hilarity on the dance floor. It was not a kind of dancing James had ever done, but it seemed to involve a lot of putting your arm round your partner, swinging each other round, and changing partners.

Never one to pass up a conversation with a girl, James turned to the one beside him with a smile.

"You're the one who said you knew the dances, right?" he asked her.

"Yes," she smiled wryly, "Well, sort of. I've always had a caller before, but they don't seem to do that here..."

"A caller?" he queried.

She nodded.

"Someone with the band, who goes through the steps with everyone before you start, and then calls out what you do as you go through..."

"Oh," he considered this, then grinned at her, "That sounds like cheating..."

She raised her eyebrows at him, but she looked amused rather than annoyed.

"Oh, really? Reckon you could manage them without one then?"

"Is that a challenge?" he demanded.

"D'you want to make it into one?" her eyes danced at him, and he was pleased to realise that this girl was not only pretty but fun. He met her grin.

"Only if you take it too..."

She laughed openly at him.

"Is that supposed to be a good way of asking someone to dance?"

"Depends if you say yes or not," he replied promptly, "If you do, it's a very good way..."

"Fine," she got to her feet and turned to face him, one hand on her hip, "Just because I can't turn down a challenge..."

"Excellent," James grinned up at her, "You're over keen though – they haven't finished this one yet..."

She glared at him for a moment, then relaxed, laughing.

"Okay. Next one then?"

"Next one," he agreed.

* * *

Scorpius was still unconvinced that this was a good idea. In fact, scratch that, he was quite sure it was a very bad idea. It had never been in his nature to take this sort of risk. But then, neither could he let Hazel down like that; she'd been planning this for weeks. He wasn't really in a mood for a party though, with Hazel or not. The conversation he had had with his father after the Quidditch match had been grim; not because Draco had told him off, though he had (Scorpius was fairly sure that, stern words or not, his father secretly approved of what he had done), but because it had highlighted only too clearly just how many things he could not talk to his father about.

Scorpius had always thought he had a relatively good relationship with his father, considering how different they were, but he had realised that lately, they had hardly talked at all. It became clear in all the holes in their conversation; all the silences he couldn't fill. There were so many things he'd have liked to ask his father, not least what was wrong with his mother. But somehow he had found himself completely unable to bring any of it up.

He was preoccupied, and his friends were aware of it, part of the reason they had been keen to distract him with some harmless fun. He knew that, and felt guiltily that he ought to appreciate it more than he did. So he did his best to pretend, and put a smile on his face as they made their way out of school. Sneaking out of Hogwarts was not easy, and although the likes of James Potter seemed to know every secret passage in the place, Scorpius certainly didn't. Danny had more experience of that kind of thing than he did though, and claimed to know a way out of the grounds, and once they were out they could Apparate, since they were all now seventeen (Danny, the youngest of the three of them, had had his birthday in February).

They were later than he had intended to be though, after almost bumping into Professor Heron in the Entrance Hall, and the near miss had renewed all his misgivings. They would be late too - he hoped it would not matter.

"So, Scorp," Danny nudged his friend as they walked through the darkened grounds, "This Hazel girl you're always talking about... What's she like?"

There was an undercurrent of amusement in his friend's voice, and Scorpius glanced at him suspiciously.

"What d'you mean, what's she like? I've told you about her often enough..."

"Yeah, but I haven't a clue what she _looks_ like," Danny pointed out with a grin, "Is she fit?"

Scorpius glared at him, but suspected Danny couldn't see his face very well in the darkness.

"Shut up."

"Ooh, touchy," Danny was starting to laugh, "But seriously, Scorp, now we're actually going to meet her, tell us honestly what the deal is with you two..."

Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"For Merlin's sake, Dan! The deal? We've been friends since we were six – she's like another sister. Anything else would just be... weird. And horrible," he added firmly. It was a truth his friend had had trouble accepting over the years. It seemed that being a boy, and having a girl you were as close to as Scorpius was to Hazel, was only believable if you secretly fancied the pants off each other. That had never entered the equation with him and Hazel, and he was less annoyed and more bemused that even now Danny couldn't quite believe there was absolutely nothing going on.

"Oh, leave him alone, Danny," Calypso sounded almost equally amused, "We'll soon find out anyway..."

Scorpius decided not to dignify this with a response, and continued walking. However, he had only taken another few steps when he stopped short. They were very close to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, and not a million miles away from the spot where Angharad Jones had been attacked, and when the sound of voices reached his ears he had a moment of alarm that made him reach for his wand. Just behind him, he caught a glimpse of Calypso doing the same. It only lasted a moment, though, before they realised that the voices they were hearing were not those of intruders.

"Do you even know where you're going?" the voice was whispering, but the words still reached them relatively clearly, sounding worried and a little exasperated.

"Yes!" the second voice was bright, although a note of doubt crept into it as it continued, "At least, I think so..."

"Lily!" the first voice was almost a wail, but it was enough for Scorpius to identify one of them at least. Lily Potter, which almost certainly made the other one – the first voice – Meredith Hewitt. And judging by the expression on Danny's face as Scorpius glanced round at his friends, he too had identified them. Without waiting for Scorpius to react, Dannicus pushed his way forward towards the spot where two dimly visible figures had just emerged from the darkness, carrying broomsticks.

"Out of the castle after dark, Potter?" Danny tutted loudly, putting on a disapproving tone, though Scorpius could tell that his friend was actually laughing, "I'm surprised at you..."

The two figures swung towards them, clearly startled by the sudden voice from the shadows. Danny was using a Lumos spell, so the faces of the two girls were just visible, lit by the glow from his wand. Lily's expression had dropped in dismay as her gaze moved across the three Sixth Years.

"Well, so are you," it was Meri Hewitt who spoke first, appearing less fazed than Lily, "That's none of our business, so what we do isn't any of yours..."

"Yeah, she's right, Dan," Scorpius broke in firmly, eager to get his friend away from Lily, "Leave it..." It was some time since the outbreak of rumours concerning himself and the Fourth Year, and they seemed to have more or less died away, but Danny had a nasty tendency to remember things like that, and you just never knew what he might say; in the kind of mood he appeared to be in just now, it could be anything. Sure enough, his friend simply looked round at him with a mocking grin, and raised his eyebrows before turning back to the girls.

"All right, no need to get your knickers in a twist," he said, in tones that were disarmingly light hearted and innocent, "I was just wondering where you'd be going at this time... I mean, it's not supposed to be safe out here, and two little Fourth Years by themselves..." he grinned provokingly at them, then glanced over his shoulder again, "Hey, Scorp, Cal – maybe they're headed to the same place as us!" he did not sound as though he thought this a real possibility, but Scorpius thought helplessly that he wouldn't even put it past Danny to invite the two Gryffindors along with them at this rate. Tonight was becoming more complicated by the moment, and Scorpius was beginning to think it wasn't worth it, even for Hazel. Danny's words, though, had made Lily glance almost furtively at her friend, but Hewitt was merely looking puzzled.

"Actually," Lily made an attempt at her usual cheery tone, but something told Scorpius she was hiding something – one thing you could say about Lily Potter was that she was a hopeless liar, "If you're going to the Muggle party, so are we..."

This news effectively silenced Dannicus, who had never expected his teasing suggestion to be true, and simply gaped at her. Hewitt had given a stifled exclamation of surprise, and was staring at her friend as if wondering what on earth she was playing at. Scorpius could have wondered the same thing – how did Lily Potter even _know_ about the party?

Calypso took over the conversation.

"How d'you lot know about that?" she asked sharply. There was, after all, little point in lying; if they were all headed in the same direction, it would be found out soon enough.

The question seemed to stump Lily for a moment.

"We, um... we kind of heard someone talking about it..." she said at last, her voice trailing off.

"_Who_?" Calypso demanded. Scorpius' dismay was increasing. He had never imagined that anyone but themselves knew about the Muggle ceilidh – it wasn't exactly usual for Hogwarts students to stray into the Muggle village. Exactly how many people were talking about this? Had they somehow given something away? He remembered uneasily that they had talked about it in the library, where someone _could_ have been listening, out of sight...

"I can't remember," Lily answered Calypso's question unconvincingly. Scorpius didn't feel like pushing the point. It wouldn't do them any good to know who she had learnt it from – if other people were planning on going to the ceilidh, they would soon find out.

"Well, we can't stop you coming, I suppose," he said somewhat ungraciously, "I don't know what you're hoping for though – you're both underage, you can't drink or anything..."

"Well, nor can you, in the Muggle world," Lily retorted, sounding almost hurt by his rudeness, though why she should be, since they'd hardly ever spoken to each other, he couldn't imagine.

"What d'you mean?" Calypso, however, had been distracted by this statement, "We're all seventeen..."

Scorpius had, he realised, forgotten to make sure his friends knew this little fact – both being purebloods from traditional families, they didn't know much about the Muggle world, and unlike Scorpius, they had not grown up with Muggle best friends.

"You have to be eighteen in the Muggle world," Lily informed them blithely now, "Didn't you know? We did it in Muggle Studies the other week."

"Great," Danny pulled a face, "A party with no drinking..."

Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"It won't kill us," he pointed out, "Anyway, Hazel doesn't even think they'll bother checking..."

"Wait, you _knew_ about the age limit being different...?" Danny was beginning in outraged tones, when Calypso interrupted.

"Well, the longer we all stay here and argue about it, the more likely we are to get caught. So why don't we worry about that when we actually get there?"

"Yeah, good point," Scorpius agreed firmly, cutting Danny off before he could say any more, then he glanced doubtfully at the two younger girls. He could have done without meeting them – they were a complication, and it was surely only a matter of time before Dan stopped being pre-occupied with the idea of no drinking, and remembered that there had supposedly been something going on between himself and Lily Potter. However, they could hardly tell the two girls to fuck off. For one thing, he actually quite liked Lily – not in _that_ way, of course, he hastened to add, even in his own head, whatever Hazel might like to think. Why, he thought irritably, were people so interested in his love life suddenly? Hazel, Danny, and now apparently even Issie, never mind the general Howgarts population, who had been so keen to believe the rumours. It made everything unnecessarily complicated, and he hated that. He definitely did not want Lily Potter hanging around with them, not when both Hazel and Danny were going to be there. But they were all going in the same direction...

Calypso, however, took the decision from him.

"Are you going to fly there?" she asked the two Gryffindors, "That's a bit dangerous, isn't it? What if you're seen? And are you actually planning on flying dressed like that...?" she eyed the dresses and heels the girls were both wearing.

"Well, we haven't got any other way of getting there," Meri pointed out, sounding somewhat gloomy about it, "Unless we want to walk for miles over the moors, and that would be even worse."

Lily was, as Scorpius had good reason to know, very good on a broom, but he didn't think he'd ever seen Meri Hewitt on one, and she certainly didn't seem thrilled by the prospect. The three Sixth Years looked at each other. There was the beginning of an evil grin on Danny's face, and Scorpius attempted to glare him into silence, but that had never worked on Dannicus Urquhart, and it did not work now.

"Well, no need for that now," he remarked, with the same false cheerful innocence he had used before, "We're all old enough to Apparate; you can come Side Along with us, if you're up for it..."

There was the briefest of pauses. Slytherins and Gryffindors did not usually mix; it was just one of those generally understood things. And Lily was the sister of Scorpius' worst enemy. It was the suggestion of some sort of truce – unless, of course, it was some sort of trap, and from the distrustful look on Meri Hewitt's face, she suspected the latter. Lily, however, spoke first, and Lily Potter never suspected a trap, it seemed.

"Oh, okay!" she agreed with the same bright, guileless smile that had a lot of boys eating out of her hand, "Thanks! That's good, actually, because we didn't really know the way..."

Meeting Scorpius Malfoy and his friends at this stage of the night was not exactly what Lily had planned, even though she had known they were planning on going to the party. In one way, it was a stroke of luck – they would get there much more quickly and easily, and it would be less disruptive to hair and make up. She was a bit surprised that Dannicus Urquhart had made the offer, but then she supposed it was the polite thing for him to have done.

It was a little bit awkward, of course, after all the rumours about her and Scorpius, especially since she had begun to think he was actually a very nice person. It wasn't like her to feel awkward in anyone's presence – Lily usually took people as they came – and she once more cursed Xanthe Derrick (and Hugo, for his part) for causing the situation that made it awkward. However, it wasn't enough for her to want to turn the offer down, and she knew Meri would be pleased – Meri didn't like brooms much at the best of times, let alone wearing the outfit Lily had persuaded her into.

It did just cross her mind to wonder what James and Louis would say if they were already at the party, and she walked through the door with Scorpius Malfoy and his friends. She dismissed this, however, in the way that Lily usually dismissed hypothetical future problems – it was all stupid anyway, and she didn't care what her brother and cousin thought. They didn't control her.

As they began walking again – all together this time – Meri murmured in her ear, "Lil, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Lily shrugged and matched her friend's soft tone.

"Well, it gets us there quicker, doesn't it?"

Meri had no real counter argument to this, but she was wishing at every moment that she had not gone along with Lily's mad scheme in the first place.

She had no idea how much more she would wish it before the night was over.


	21. Moving Mountains

**A/N: Have I lost you all with my long gaps between updates? :( Thank you very much to KashmereBeauty for reviewing the last chapter! It would be lovely to know a few of the rest of you were there too though...**

**This is a bit more action-y than previous chapters, so I hope you like it... action's not my strong point, but there we go. ;)**

* * *

They Apparated to a spot just outside the village, where they were unlikely to be seen. Danny had - predictably - taken charge, and had casually (and so quickly Scorpius had had no chance to stop him) contrived it so that Calypso took Meri and disappeared first. He had then promptly grinned at the other remaining two, remarked that he would see them there, and vanished. Scorpius had gritted his teeth and attempted to swallow his annoyance with his friend. Beyond a few terse words, he did not speak to Lily as they Apparated. He felt that he was being rude, but she uncharacteristically made no effort to speak either, and let go of his arm very quickly as they arrived, which was a relief, since he was uncomfortably aware that, arm in arm and dressed as they were for a party, to any casual observer they would probably look as though they were on a date. Fortunately, there were no casual observers, only Danny and Calypso, who seemed somewhat amused by the situation, and Meri Hewitt, who seemed oblivious to it.

The hall was easy to find; they had come to the right side of the village, and it was just a short distance away, across a small stretch of mossy grass. The party appeared to be in full swing already; music and laughter could be heard from it, the main doors were propped open, light flooding out from them, and they turned towards this light. Ahead of them was another group of people, also making their way towards the hall; they had hardly noticed these figures at first, and none of the other group seemed aware of the five young people behind them. It occurred to Scorpius, in a thought that only half formed, almost subconsciously, in his brain, that the people in front of them were moving a little oddly for party-goers, almost appearing furtive. Then, before he had time for any more thoughts, he saw something that made him stop dead, and it appeared that the others had seen the same thing, as they too had suddenly stopped walking.

The figures in front of them had drawn wands, and those wands were pointed towards the noisy, lit up Community Hall.

"Is that...?" Meri began in tones full of nervous doubt, but she got no further. Three spells had been fired together, there was a sudden bright flash of light, a sound of splintering glass as the windows of the hall exploded, and several people screamed, the music petering out suddenly, and the cheerful voices being replaced by sounds of panic.

For a moment, they all simply stood and stared, shocked into inaction by the sudden turn of events. The figures in front of them had scattered and gone as soon as the spells had been fired, and none of the five students had reacted fast enough to do anything about it. However, the mysterious attackers had clearly not been alone; more spells were being fired at the hall from different points in the darkness, producing more screams from inside. Muggles were running from the doors in a panic, and flames were suddenly flickering in a window. From inside came the muffled sound of another explosion above the shouting voices, and as if suddenly released from a body bind spell, Lily reacted by springing forwards towards the scene of the chaos, with a shriek of "_No_!" Scorpius lunged, and caught her by the arm.

"_Stop_, you idiot!" he exclaimed, "Where are you going!?"

"My brother's in there!" she screamed, swinging back towards him and wrenching her arm from his grasp. Scorpius had a split second in which he wondered what on earth her brother would be doing in there, before he suddenly realised that Hazel too was almost certainly inside the besieged hall, where frightened party-goers were dropping like stones as the mysterious bolts of light hit them. Spurred into sudden action, he turned to his friends.

"Get out of here!" he yelled at them, "Get back to the castle and get help!" Danny and Calypso had both drawn their wands, as he had himself, but were standing there uncertainly, unsure where to fire in the dark, or who they were firing at. Lily, freed from Scorpius' hold on her, had kicked off her impractical heels, and taken off barefoot towards the hall. Meri would have followed her if Calypso had not succeeded in preventing her. It was a mad thing to do, Scorpius knew, but like Lily, he found that he could not leave someone he loved in danger – and Hazel, unlike whichever of Lily's brothers was in there, did not have a wand of her own.

"Scorpius, wait!" Danny shouted, but he was too late; Scorpius had already set off after Lily.

"We have to go with them! We have to help!" Meri cried at the two older students. Danny looked like he might have agreed with her, but Calypso shook her head.

"No, Scorp's right!" she insisted urgently, "We'll be more use getting help!"

"But what about Scorpius?" Danny glanced uncertainly after the figure of their friend, growing smaller but still visible, dark against the glow of the fire that had been started. The immediate decision was taken from them, though. Above the hubbub came a shout of several voices together, shouting a spell none of the students had heard before, a dark and ominous sounding spell that caused a blinding flash of light and an ear-splitting _CRACK_. The three still standing at the edge of the grassy area – and everyone else around – were forced to shield their eyes for a moment, so they never saw where the spell came from. Afterwards, there was a moment of hush, long enough for Danny to say in a cracked whisper, "What was _that..._?", but not long enough for anyone to answer him, even if they had known. Then there was a distant roar, which grew swiftly louder, and Meri, suddenly seeing what was happening, screamed, "_The hill!_"

Both Sixth Years swung round to look, and froze. Even in the darkness it was possible to see that the hillside above Kilmary was moving, a great mass of rocks and trees and earth, dislodged by a sudden and violent spell, and coming roaring down, straight towards the village hall...

* * *

James had been enjoying his evening. The girl he had got chatting to was good company, as well as attractive. Of course, it was only a bit of fun and couldn't go anywhere – she was a Muggle, and she was with her school teachers, so the night would end when the party did, but that was okay. It was nice to meet a girl who simply took him at face value, knowing nothing about his famous family or his own reputation, and with whom he could flirt mildly (and be flirted with in return) without already having any kind of history with her. Maybe, he thought, he should seek out Muggle company more often. Of course, he had had to steer away from any questions about himself and what he might be doing in Kilmary, which meant that he had not found out much about her either, but that did not stop him enjoying her company, and the start of the next dance was a useful distraction from questions.

The dance was disastrous but hilarious, and she did not seem to mind at all that he was completely clueless about the steps, but merely laughed at him and took it no more seriously than he did. Adam had also found a dance partner (the girl called Anna had a boyfriend, it seemed, but she had kept her promise to try and find partners for them), and as he and James passed close by each other, he leaned over to murmur, "You're well in there, mate..." with a smirk at his friend. James felt inexplicably irritated by this. Could he not have a good time with a girl without everyone assuming he was only trying to pull her? No, was the answer, and he had to admit that that was entirely due to his own past record, so he could hardly complain.

"So..." the girl smiled at him as the music ended, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with laughter and exercise, "After all that, I still don't even know your name... I'm Hazel, by the way..."

"James," he introduced himself, returning her smile, "James Potter..."

He was totally unprepared for the reaction this produced. The laughter in her face died, to be replaced by shock and something like horror as she stared at him.

"Are you okay...?" he asked with concern. It could not have been him telling her his name that made her look like that – he'd never met her before, and she was a Muggle, so she could hardly have heard of him – could she?

"You're... you're James Potter?" her voice sounding strangled and almost angry as she drew away from him.

"Yes..." James stared at her in utter confusion, "Why, what...?"

"Sorry," she broke in and turned away from him, appearing almost equally confused, "I... I actually have to go..." she glanced around, seeming to be looking for an excuse but not finding a convincing one, "I need some fresh air," she finished quickly in the end, and had no sooner spoken the words than was heading across the room towards the door.

"Hey... wait!" James called after her, ineffectually, since she ignored him.

"What the hell did you say to her?" James turned to find Louis at his elbow, looking slightly amused.

"I don't know," a frown of annoyance appeared on James' face, followed by one of determination, "But I'm going to find out..."

And without stopping to think about whether that was a good idea, he followed her.

She had left through a fire exit at the back, which was propped open to let the air in, and was being used by people looking for somewhere to smoke. James shouldered through them and outside into the darkness. The night was cold; it was early in the year, and he had taken his jacket off inside, so the cold wind went straight through his shirt sleeves. He glanced around. There were a few people standing around the entrance, talking and laughing amongst themselves, but he caught sight of her a short distance away to the left. There was some sort of building there, tucked in under the hillside against a small cliff; he could not see in the darkness what it was, but by the size, no more than a shed or outhouse.

She had moved across to it, and was holding something in her hand; it was small and had a light in it, and even James was familiar enough with Muggle habits to guess from the way she was holding it that it was a mobile phone. Unlike him, she'd stopped to grab her cardigan, which was thrown over her shoulders. She did not look particularly as though she wanted interruptions, but James was nothing if not stubborn. He'd liked her; she'd apparently liked him. Then she'd heard his name and completely freaked out on him, and he wanted to know why. James was used to people recognising his name, but not Muggles, and certainly not with a reaction like that one.

"Hey, Hazel!" he called, not too loudly but loud enough to be heard, as he made his way towards her. This side of the hall, there were no outside lights, and as soon as he moved out of the light shed by the open door, he was in what appeared to be, after the lights inside, pitch darkness. The ground was rocky and uneven, and he stumbled slightly as he picked his way across. She looked up, and he couldn't see the expression on her face properly.

"Look, I didn't need you to follow me..." she said, as soon as he was close enough to hear her without her raising her voice. Her tone was completely different from the one she had used inside; it sounded cold and hard.

"I know," he agreed with unusual meekness, "But come on... you can't just run out on me and not tell me what the hell that was all about...? My name's not _that_ bad, is it?" he added, with an attempt at a joke that fell flat, as she gave him a withering look.

"I don't owe you an explanation," she said flatly, "And I think you should leave me alone..."

Frustration appeared on James' face as he opened his mouth to reply, and if he had had the chance, he might have said something he later regretted. However, it was at that moment that the distant sound of breaking glass came from the far side of the hall, and they both broke off from the conversation as the noises of the party turned from cheerful enjoyment to something else entirely.

"What the hell...?" Hazel's voice had changed again and was sharp with sudden nervous worry.

"I don't know..." James' eyes were scanning the scene as more people appeared at the fire exit, trying to leave the hall in a hurry. His hand had gone surreptitiously to his pocket, where he'd stowed his wand. There was another explosion, louder and closer, and a sudden bolt of light came from the side and hit the ground between them and the hall, fortunately missing any people. Hazel made a stifled noise of shock, but James of course recognised the light from a spell, although he wasn't sure what it was. Throwing caution to the wind in favour of protection, he pulled his wand out and glanced at her.

"Look, you need to get out of here..." he told her urgently, "Hide somewhere..." He had no idea what was going on or who the attackers were, but after the sporadic events of dark magic over the last few months, there seemed to be a pattern emerging. Whoever it was, though, they had targeted a Muggle party, and presumably could not have guessed that there might be wizards in attendance, which was enough to make James blind with rage. Hazel did not have a wand; she was helpless in the face of these attackers, and so was everyone else at the ceilidh, with the exceptions of himself, Louis and Adam.

"I can't... Anna... my friends!" she protested incoherently, gesturing at the building.

"You can't help them!" he insisted, "I can... Look, this is going to sound mad, but those people out there, they're using..."

"Magic! I know!" she broke in wildly, and he had no time to be shocked, to wonder what and _how_ she knew, because the sound of a shouted curse filled the air, not far from them – a curse he did not recognise, but which raised the hairs on the back of his neck, because it was undoubtedly strong and dark. The air lit up dazzling and blinding him completely, the ground shook with a loud cracking sound, and his eyes flew open as the light died away, bright spots still dancing in his vision and making it hard to see anything. A hand grabbed his arm, and he realised that it was Hazel.

"Look out! Come on, move!" she shouted above the roaring noise that had filled the night, and he followed her pointing hand, his gaze falling upon the hillside crashing down towards them.

With no more argument, they ran. The nearest possibility of protection was the shed, and they instinctively flung themselves into the slight shelter afforded by its walls. There was a door, and James grabbed the handle, expecting to find it locked; relief flooded him as it flew open. The two of them stumbled inside and he slammed the door shut behind them, just before the landslide hit. There was a scream of tearing metal and timber, the roof of the building buckled, and the world was filled with noise and confusion and raining debris that slowly faded into darkness.

* * *

Lily was not sure what she had intended to do when she ran towards the danger. She had not been thinking properly, which was something that people frequently told her she did. All she had thought of was that James and Louis were in a building that was being attacked, and she had not stopped to realise that two eighteen-year-olds (three with their friend Adam) were far more likely to be able to look after themselves than one fifteen-year-old who tended to lose her head in a crisis. She had almost collided with a fleeing Muggle, who had taken no notice of her, and had come to a skidding halt in front of the hall when the spell was cast that brought the hillside down.

People had already been flooding out of the door, screaming and shouting, and from inside she had heard the unmistakeable sound of spells being fired. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen a Muggle talking on a mobile phone, presumably calling their police. Someone should tell the Ministry, she had thought vaguely; surely someone would, and then her dad and the others would be here to take care of things... Frantically, she had scanned the crowd for two familiar faces, but she couldn't see them, and had begun to regret her reckless charge into danger. She had her wand in her hand, but her palm had been slick with sweat, and she hadn't known what she ought to do – she wasn't allowed to use magic out of school, she wasn't even supposed to _be_ out of school, and she couldn't think of a single spell that would be any use...

And then the sound of the earth moving had taken over everything else, and she, along with the Muggles, had watched in helpless horror as the earth poured down.

It was dark, and she heard more than she saw as it hit – and smashed and smothered, and kept coming – a small building behind the hall. A huge wall of rocks and earth slammed into the side of the hall, and for a moment, Lily thought that the same thing was going to happen to it as had happened to the small outhouse – that it would smash the hall, and everyone in it, like matchsticks. But the hall walls were stronger, and although they creaked and shook, they held, and the landslide stilled. There was still a great deal of screaming, but it seemed to come from far away, her ears still ringing with the sound of falling mountains. Around her, Muggles were still running and panicking, but she felt frozen, and all she could think of was that she still didn't know where her brother and cousin were.

The bolt of red light shot over her shoulder and narrowly missed her, and the shock caused her to jump back into action. She drew her wand, looking wildly round for, but not immediately finding, the person who had fired the stunning spell

* * *

"Potter!" a hand grasped her arm and she whirled round and almost fired a jinx, before realising that it was Scorpius Malfoy. "Get out of here!" he shouted in her ear.

"What's happening?" she screamed back, but he shook his head, having no answer for her, and simply repeated his words.

"Go on! Get out – get back to Hogwarts!"

It occurred to her that she could not get back to Hogwarts, unless either he came with her, or she managed to find the others again, because they had left their brooms hidden at the edge of the castle grounds, and she could not Apparate alone. This had perhaps occurred to him at the same moment, because he added, "At least get out of sight!"

She had no time to move, however, before two figures appeared in front of them. Both were hooded, although one – a woman – had her hood thrown so far back that had it been light, they would have seen her face easily.

"Well, well, well," the voice was full of excited triumph, "What do we have here? Hogwarts students where they shouldn't be?"

For a moment, both teenagers were frozen. Both had wands in their hands, and both raised them to point at their opponents, but it was Lily who got there first. Afterwards, she thought that Scorpius had hesitated, and she wondered why, but at the time, she did not think – something she was, after all, very good at. She took aim and screamed the first thing that came into her head, which with good fortune happened to be a body binding jinx, and with even greater good fortune, happened to be on target. The first figure toppled to the ground, and the one behind gave an exclamation and fired straight at Lily. Quidditch reflexes made her dive to one side just in time, and it only grazed her shoulder, burning pain making her cry out.

This time, Scorpius did not hesitate. He fired his own stunning spell, which hit their opponent square on the chest, then without waiting any longer, he grabbed Lily's arm again and began to pull her away from the building.

Once they were round a corner and out of sight, he turned to face her.

"Are you okay?"

She made a movement with her head that quite honestly, could have been a nod or a shake, slid down until she was sitting on the ground, and to her shame and humiliation, found herself starting to cry. Scorpius looked slightly panicked.

"Potter? Seriously, are you hurt?"

This time, she managed to make a definite nod.

"Only a bit," she twisted her head and looked at her shoulder. Her dress had short sleeves, one of which was ripped half off, and she had a moment of ridiculous regret for her favourite dress. Underneath, her skin was red and raw, as if it had been burned. It stung, but she didn't think it was serious.

Scorpius murmured a Lumos spell and crouched beside her to look at the injury, his hand brushing the torn edge of her sleeve away from the place.

"Is that the only place?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"Yes. I'm okay... But all those people..." she glanced back, her voice catching on a sob, "James and Louis..."

Scorpius' jaw tightened with some emotion – she wasn't sure what – but he stayed calm.

"I know. But I didn't see any Killing Curses – hopefully everyone'll be okay..." He did not sound convinced of his own words, because they had both seen the landslide, and they also both knew that there were other ways of killing people than using Avada Kedavra.

"My friend was in there too," he said in an odd tone of voice, "Someone I've known since we were kids..."

Lily was silent at this news, trying to work out what a friend of Scorpius Malfoy's would be doing here.

"Is that why you were here?" she asked at last, and he nodded.

"What are we going to do?" she added, the shake in her voice beyond her control. Her hands were shaking too, and he seemed to realise this.

"Here, you're freezing," he said, glancing at her bare arms and shrugging off his own jacket. It was not an answer to her question, but she had to admit, as she murmured a thank you, that she was glad of the feeling of it round her shoulders as he slung it round her. And somehow, his arm remained round her shoulders too, which was nice as well. To Lily, reassuring physical contact in times of crisis was something normal and accepted, and it never occurred to her that the same might not be true for him – it was simply comforting to feel support from another human being (and it really wasn't important at all right now that somehow, the fact that it was Scorpius Malfoy with his arm round her made it feel very different from if it had been one of her brothers or cousins – and also somehow very different from the feeling she had had when Zeke Lucas had put his arm round her, which was slightly more unexpected). However, being Lily, her only response was to lean against him slightly, silently accepting their position and the mutual comfort it offered.

"We got two of them anyway," she said after a moment.

"Yes," he said tonelessly, then glanced over his shoulder, "Listen, Potter... Lily. Will you be okay? I can go back..."

She glanced up at him.

"I'll come with you."

"You're hurt..." he protested.

"Not much..."

She too glanced back in the direction they had come. They could not see much, and it was impossible to know what was happening, but there was still a hubbub of raised voices. She thought somehow that it had changed though... there were shouts that sounded almost like orders, and then suddenly, she caught a voice she recognised and gave a small exclamation.

"What?" Scorpius' arm slipped away from her shoulders as he looked at her with concern. However she was no longer concentrating on him.

"Come on!" she said, scrambling to her feet and hurrying back towards the front of the building, his coat still wrapped round her. He swore, and followed her. As they rounded the corner, a commanding voice could be heard.

"Right, Jefferson, round the back! If there's anyone buried under that lot, they could be still alive. Anderson, you're in charge of Memory Modifications. We need to get this lot under control. Has Nicolson got here yet? And someone needs to get back to Hogwarts and..."

This was as far as the voice got. A slim figure appeared out of the shadows and flung itself bodily at the speaker, who broke off with an exclamation.

"Thank Merlin!" Lily almost sobbed as she clutched his arm, "Dad!"


	22. Brushes with Death

**A/N: I haven't done one of these recently, so just a reminder that nothing you recognise in this story belongs to me; the HP world and canon characters are all JK Rowling's.**

**Thanks so much to Messy Ink, Asterix Tutnix, Kashmere Beauty and betony11 for the reviews! Reviews honestly make my day, and I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. Hope everyone else is too! :) **

* * *

A few months previously, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had personally overseen the establishment of the new security measures around Hogwarts School, following the two attacks on students. Very few people outside the Auror Department knew about these new measures; even among the staff, only the senior members were aware of it in more than the vaguest terms, and the students knew nothing at all (although Rose, of course, being Rose, had spotted her father and uncle in the grounds). The idea was that anyone attempting to break into the school would not only be unable to get in (unless they found some way of breaking past the strong protective spells) but would also find themselves immobilised and unable to get out again either. The mastermind behind the scheme had in fact been Ron himself, who claimed that growing up with Fred and George had made him learned in the art of booby traps. Once activated, the spells would also set off alarms within the Auror Department, alerting them immediately that there had been a break in attempt.

That night, for the first time, the alarms went off.

A small group of shadowy figures arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from the Edinburgh branch of the Auror Office, hoping that the enchantments had held, and that they would finally be able to lay hands on those responsible for at least the latest two attacks, and possibly more. Their instructions were to be quick, quiet, and efficient.

That plan came to nothing. Even as they had departed from Edinburgh, Penelope Clearwater had been flooing the Ministry in London, in such a hurry that she had not even had time to don her teaching robes (and for the Deputy Headmistress to appear informally dressed was unheard of), to inform them that the Muggle village of Kilmary was under attack.

Harry was with one of the first Auror teams to arrive at Hogwarts. It was a long time since he had personally headed a team in the field, but then it was a long time since there had been a situation as urgent and serious as this. The events of the past few months had bothered him a great deal; he could not help thinking that the spate of seemingly random occurrences of dark magic and violence could not really be random. He felt that they were on the edge of descending back into something he had hoped was long over; he had been instrumental in making this new world they lived in, in building, bit by bit, small change by small change, new law by new law, a state of peace that he had thought was secure. Now it seemed that peace was shakier than he had imagined, and the safe world they had created for the next generation was as precarious as a house of cards, and could come tumbling down just as easily. What was more, Hogwarts seemed to be at the centre of things, and Hogwarts was where his own children were.

He stopped at the school only briefly, however. The team from the Edinburgh Office had indeed apprehended two would-be intruders near the edge of the grounds, but this seemed to be well under control, and where he was really needed was the village of Kilmary. Leaving Ron to gather any facts he could from staff and students, he Apparated straight there, with a team of the best from his Department.

He was in Auror mode, on full alert, giving orders and firing spells right and left, and the last thing he expected, in the middle of the chaos and violence, was the sight of a very familiar red-haired girl, who flung herself on him with a cry of mingled distress and relief.

"Lily!" he exclaimed, breaking off from orders he had been giving out, "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"I came to the party!" she appeared close to tears, and was dirty and dishevelled, her dress torn and her hair falling down from its knot. His shock at seeing her there gave way to the horrible realisation that she could have been killed, and overwhelming relief at the fact that she had not. Disregarding the fact that there were still Aurors standing around him and waiting for their orders, he pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her shaking as he did so.

"Okay... it's okay, Lil," he said, as reassuringly as he could, "We'll get you back to school..."

"No!" she burst out, pulling herself back from up and looking up at him, her face tear stained, "Dad, it's not okay! James and Louis... they were here too, and I don't know where they are... And Meri..." she added, as she realised that she did not know what had happened to her friend either.

"Meri Hewitt's back at the school," a voice spoke from behind them, and Lily turned to find her Uncle Ron there, his face tense and worried, as he looked at her father, "I came to update you, Harry,. Three students raised the alarm, and Meri was one of them. I spoke to all of them – Meri told me Lily had been with her, but I see you've found her. Seems Kilmary was the place to be tonight... we're also looking for Scorpius Malfoy..."

"Oh... he was here..." Lily broke in, looking around.

"I _am_ here," Scorpius himself emerged from the shadows, clearly seeing no help for it now that his name had been mentioned, and addressed Harry directly, "Sir... the Muggles..."

"We'll deal with that," Harry told the boy firmly, but not unkindly, "We're getting the injured ones treated as soon as possible... With the agreement of the Ministry, Professor Morrison has agreed to lift the spells preventing Muggles from entering Hogwarts, just for this one night, so we can treat those injured by spell damage – special emergency measures. And all they'll remember afterwards is that there was a landslide..." he looked at Ron, "Anything else I need to know before we get these two back to school?"

"Yes, 'fraid so. Meri wasn't a hundred per cent sure, but she thought..." Ron glanced worriedly at Lily, then back at Harry, "She thought that James, Louis and their friend Adam were meant to be here too..."

"They were," Lily broke in again, "They said they were coming, anyway... I didn't see them..."

Harry looked around himself, his face carefully impassive. There were a lot of people still around, it was dark, and the scene was fairly chaotic.

"Well, they could quite easily be here without us having seen them yet. Why on earth you all decided to come to a Muggle party tonight of all nights, I can't think..."

"Uncle Harry?"

They all swung round to find Louis and Adam approaching them. Adam had a cut on his cheek, and Louis' shirt seemed to be hanging off him in tatters, his face white and stricken.

"They said you were over here..." he went on, and then stopped, apparently unable to go on.

"Louis..." Ron stepped forwards, as Harry seemed temporarily immobilised by the realisation of who was missing, "Louis, where's James?"

Louis looked wretchedly at his uncle, then turned to look back at the hall.

"He... he went out the back," he said, his voice cracked with worry, "Just before it happened... I haven't seen him since... Everything happened at once, and we were trying to protect the Muggles, but there were too many of them..."

Everyone present turned slowly to look in the same direction as Louis. Half the hill seemed to be piled up against the back of Kilmary Community Hall, and the chances of anyone ending up underneath that and surviving seemed rather unlikely. There was a moment's silence. Then Harry spoke, in a grim and tightly controlled voice.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Get a team round there. If he's there..." His voice tailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Ron, his own face white and tense, said nothing to his friend, merely turned and assumed control.

"Right, folks, you heard that! If there's anyone trapped under there, we need to get them out. Anderson, with me. Lindon, round the other side. You know the drill, we need to go carefully; we can't go bringing any more down..."

"Dad..." Lily's voice was shaking, and she looked up at her father with anguished eyes as Ron continued to organise the Aurors, "Dad, d'you think he's...?"

Harry looked down at his daughter, and saw something that was not quite his baby girl – even now, with her eyes wide and frightened, her make-up smudged down her cheeks, he had to face the fact that she was _not_ a baby any more. He could not feed her reassuring platitudes that would have helped calm his own fears, because she would not believe them.

"I don't know, Lil," he told her gently, a tremor in his own voice, "But if he's there, we'll find him. You need to get back to school and get that shoulder seen to," he added, as he noticed the shiny burn mark under her torn sleeve, then he glanced round at the three boys, "You lot as well..."

"We could help though..." Louis protested.

"No, Lou," Harry shook his head at his nephew, "This is a job for professionals – you've done your bit. You need to go and let your teachers know you're okay..."

"But Jamie..." Louis said wretchedly, glancing back at the scene of chaos again, then breaking off as he saw the expression on his uncle's face.

"Louis," Ron appeared again behind him, speaking very firmly, "Do as you're told, and get yourself and Lily back to Hogwarts. You're wasting everyone's time arguing. _Go._"

* * *

James surfaced from the darkness to the slow and vague realisation that someone was speaking his name, and that there was a pair of hands on his shoulders. He simultaneously became aware that his head was throbbing, and there was a sharp and sickening pain in one leg.

"James? Can you hear me?" the voice was demanding frantically. The answer was yes, but it took a few moments for his mouth to catch up with the awareness of his brain, before he was able to croak the word out. Then he tried to move, which only produced a bolt of agony through his knee, and he gave a hiss of breath through his teeth.

"Shit. My leg..." he muttered.

"Jesus," the girl – Hazel, he reminded himself – said somewhat shakily, "I thought you were dead... Which leg's hurt?"

"Left one," he told her, through gritted teeth, attempting to struggle up so that he was propped on his elbows. Moving like that increased the ache in his head, but that was bearable compared to the pain in his leg. She held her hand up, and he realised that the faint greenish light was coming from the screen of her phone – it was the only light in the place. She gave an exclamation as her gaze fell on his legs, and he could have echoed it, except that he was feeling sick and light-headed, and unable to be shocked by anything. His leg was certainly at a very strange angle, which, along with the blood that was soaking his jeans leg and pooling on the ground, explained the pain.

"We need to stop it bleeding like that," she said quietly, her voice a little strained, "Do you... can you do that sort of thing... with magic?"

It passed through his brain that he still did not know how on earth she knew anything about magic, but other things seemed more pressing at the moment, though he had to shake his head. He'd learnt how to fix up small cuts and scratches by magic, but he didn't think he could mend something like this. And anyway...

"I had my wand... in my hand..." he said confusedly, looking around himself. His hands were empty now, and he did not know what had happened to it. He must have dropped it...

She held the phone up, allowing the dim light from it to fall on their surroundings. They had been extremely lucky not to have been crushed and killed instantly, he realised through the haze that seemed to be fogging his brain. The roof of the barn had caved in under the weight of the landslide, and the end they were in was the only part still standing. Just a few yards away across the floor, the pile of debris started, held away from them only by part of the roof that had fallen at the right angle, trapping them in a small space up against the end wall. How long it would hold was anyone's guess. Of his wand, there was no sign, although given the lack of light and the scatter of sticks and stones across the floor, they would have been lucky to have spotted it even if it was there. Not having a wand in a situation like this was not a pleasant feeling; his wand was part of him, and how were they to get out, or do anything to help themselves, without it...?

"Right..." she sounded calmer than he felt at the moment, but then she was used to not having a wand, "Well, I'll do my best then... Because you're bleeding quite a lot, so we need to stop that..." She propped her phone against a piece of stone, so that the screen shone faintly onto him, and took another look at his leg. His jeans were badly torn just above the knee, which was also where the blood appeared to be coming from.

Hazel had done a First Aid Course as part of her Duke of Edinburgh Award, but she had never had to deal with anything serious in reality, and especially not in a small, dark, dirty space, with absolutely no resources on hand for her to use.

"I... I'll need to tear your jeans, I think – I need to see where you're bleeding, but you shouldn't move too much," she told him. James, who was past caring about damage to his clothing, simply nodded briefly, and after a moment's hesitation, she grasped the material where it was already torn, and using both hands, succeeding in ripping away the leg of his trousers. Looking down at him, she bit her lip; the break appeared to be below his knee, judging by the shape of his leg, but the knee itself was a mess, with a wide, deep gash starting just above it, and a mass of bruising and swelling beginning to appear all round it. She could not see properly what kind of cut it was, or how deep, but it was deep enough for the blood to be welling steadily from it, and that was what needed attending to first. Swiftly, Hazel slipped off her cardigan, and, without hesitating this time, ripped a strip straight off the front of it. It was hardly sterile, but she had nothing that was, so she simply folded it into a thick pad, and pressed it to his knee. He made a choked sound, and she saw his hands curl into fists, though he didn't flinch away.

"Sorry... I'm sorry," she told him anxiously, not letting up on the pressure, "But I have to..."

"I know – It's fine," he answered through gritted teeth, though it clearly wasn't. There was little more to say, and she worked silently for a time, the only sounds their breathing, his small sounds of pain, and, sounding faint and very far away, the odd shout or scream from outside. What was happening out there, Hazel had no idea, but there was no time to think about it, or to wonder what had happened to her friends.

She had no idea how long it took for the bleeding to slow and eventually stop. It was long enough that she had had to use most of her cardigan, torn into strips, and for her to begin to think desperately that she could not do this, and that he was simply going to die of blood loss right here in front of her.

He did not die, but he was very white by the time she sat back and looked at him. He had given up on trying to sit upright and slipped flat onto his back again, and his eyes had a dazed expression, his breathing more rapid than was normal. The final piece of her cardigan was still tied tightly around the wound, which she hoped very much was starting to clot now. Her hands and arms were spattered with his blood, but that hardly mattered so long as the rest of his blood stayed inside him.

"James? Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly. It was a stupid question with an obvious answer, but at least if he could reply to her, he probably wasn't actually dying.

He nodded, more an automatic reaction than anything, but when he spoke it was not an answer to her question.

"How do you know... about us?" he asked her, his words very slightly slurred, which they hadn't been before, even though he'd had a drink or two. Hazel was silent for a moment or two. Talking would keep him conscious, and might take his mind off the pain, but it was going to be awkward if he insisted on asking questions she did not know how to answer.

"I've known a long time," she said at last, "I have a friend who's... magical..."

He appeared to consider this.

"They told you?" he asked, "We're not meant to do that..." he changed tack as something else apparently occurred to him, "Who is it? Is that why you knew my name..?"

Hazel bit her lip. She knew that Scorpius was not meant to have told her. And every word James spoke was reminding her that this was the boy who had made her best friend's life a misery on so many occasions – something she had forgotten for a short time, while she was trying to stop him bleeding to death. What would happen if she told him? She didn't trust him in the slightest, and Scorpius could get into serious trouble if anyone found out. She wasn't going to give James Potter the power to do that to her friend... However, James was ahead of her, and even with his mental capacities currently impaired, his mind had done the necessary logic.

"Wait..." he said slowly, his voice still thick with pain, but making an effort to focus on her in the darkness, "Your friend... is it... is it _Malfoy_?"

"Who?" Hazel attempted to sound as genuinely puzzled as possible, and she was a good actor, but James was not fooled – indeed, he hardly heard her, because things were clicking together in his mind, and he even sounded a little stronger as he went on.

"It is, isn't it? That makes so much sense... It's why Malfoy was coming to the party, and it's how you know about magic, and it's why you got angry when you heard who I was, because he doesn't like me..."

"He's got good reason not to like you!" Hazel retorted hotly, and then broke off, as she realised she had just given herself – and Scorpius – away. There was a small pause, then James spoke again, and Hazel got the impression he was talking in a way he probably wouldn't have done if he hadn't been having trouble holding his thoughts together.

"I know he has," he agreed quietly, "I've been a dick to him... But he can be a dick too... sometimes. It isn't _all_ me..."

Hazel was silent. She did not want to have this conversation; if he thought he was going to change her opinion of him, he could think again, and the whole topic sickened her. She refused to sit here and argue with him over the character of her best friend.

James too let the subject drop, and the pause lasted long enough for her suddenly to become afraid that he was losing consciousness.

"James... are you still awake?"

There was another small pause before his answer came, and she had almost started to panic.

"Yeah..." he said finally, "S'cold though..."

She was cold herself; her dress was sleeveless and her cardigan had been used as a bandage. But he had lost a good amount of blood, so his body temperature would drop faster. She wasn't sure how long it would take before his body simply started to shut down, if it wasn't doing it already.

"You have to stay awake," she told him, swallowing her rising panic, "Until they come and get us out..."

She could not allow herself to think of the possibility that nobody would come in time; they _had _to, that was all.

"I'm trying," he muttered, without much of the bravado he had shown earlier, "My leg hurts..."

She still had not asked him if he knew what had happened; why people had attacked them, and who it had been. Even if he had answers, he probably wouldn't be able to articulate them very well just at the moment. Was this somehow related to the attack on poor Fiona Murphy back at home? Scorpius had given her to believe that magical attacks on non-magical people were rare these days – and yet in the past few months, two had occurred in the very place she, Hazel, happened to be. What did that mean? What was going on? She was burning to know, but now did not seem a good time to question the boy beside her.

And then she heard a sound that made her heart leap.

Voices. Voices not very far away, and they were not shouting in malice or in fear, but calling in strong, measured tones.

"Hello? Anyone hearing me? Is anyone there?" it was a woman's voice, and even though she had no way of really knowing whether it was a friend or an enemy, Hazel had never been happier to hear anything in her life.

"Hello!" she called, as loudly as she could, "Hello, we're trapped in here!" she turned to James, who had not reacted, and spoke in quieter tones, "James, there's someone out there!"

He did not reply, and she thought he might finally have lost consciousness, but her best chance of helping him was to alert the people outside, so she shouted again, even louder. "CAN YOU HEAR ME? WE'RE TRAPPED!"

There was another shout from somewhere above her, and although she did not catch the words, it was the tone of someone suddenly alerted. And then a voice was calling from close by.

"Okay, hold on in there! We'll get you out!"

* * *

The Aurors had spread out across the hillside. Back up teams from the Department for Magical Law Enforcement and the Hit Wizard Squad had arrived, along with several trained Healers and some Muggle Special Liaisons Officers, who were officers in the Muggle police force as well as being fully trained Aurors. Some were seeing to matters at Hogwarts, but the majority were in Kilmary. Wounded Muggles were, as Harry had said, being taken to Hogwarts; the Ministry had been unhappy with this idea, but it was an emergency, and Harry's idea had prevailed (as it usually did in matters concerning the Dark Arts). There were too many Muggles to treat them on the spot, and they could hardly be taken to a Muggle hospital with possible spell damage. Besides, they had witnessed things they should not have witnessed, and the Ministry needed to keep tabs on them, as well as taking statements from them. Hogwarts was easier and safer than taking them to St Mungo's, and with carefully done memory charms afterwards, they would remember none of it. The presence of legitimate Muggle police officers in their uniforms was keeping panic to a minimum, and gradually things were coming under control, although all but two of the attackers (the two that Lily and Scorpius had taken down) had escaped, it seemed.

Harry had made sure that his daughter, his nephew, and the two other boys departed safely for the castle, before turning to follow the others behind the hall, his heart full of dread. He did not know yet exactly what had gone on tonight, but he was beginning to feel as though his children attracted trouble as surely as he had done himself in his school days. Lily, at least, was safe now. James... he could not even allow himself to think that. They would find his son – they _must_ find him. Harry had lost a lot of people he loved over the years, but he didn't think he had ever faced anything as horrific as the thought of losing one of his children – it was unthinkable, unbearable, it could not happen.

He rounded the corner of the hall, wand drawn. There seemed to be nobody left to fight, but he was not letting his guard down yet. As he scanned the scene, a shout went up, and he started forwards, his heart in his mouth. Something had been found – but what? Several people, including his best friend and brother-in-law, were gathered together, standing on the side of a large pile of debris, and with the help of wands, rubble and earth were being carefully shifted out of the way. As he approached, their hands were reaching down and pulling up a girl he did not recognise.

"He's alive..." she was saying through chattering teeth, as he climbed over a mound of earth towards them, "I think he's unconscious though... his leg's broken, he needs a hospital..."

"Harry!" Ron had turned and seen him, but Harry was focussed on the girl.

"Who's alive?" he demanded of her, his voice made sharp by anxiety.

"His name's James," she replied quietly, "James Potter..."

A warming spell was performed on her, a blanket conjured and draped round her, and her name taken down. She had been reported missing, it seemed, by the Muggle teacher in charge of a group of school students. Someone was dispatched to let her teachers and friends know that she was safe, and then, with everyone else who needed medical treatment, she was escorted off to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

Harry, meanwhile, had lowered himself into the hole they had pulled her out of. In the light from his wand, he silently took in the sight of the fallen roof, the debris, and the buckled and splintered timbers. The remainder of the building looked as though it might collapse at any moment.

"James?" he said quietly, but there was no reply. He could see his son, though, sprawled on the ground at the base of the only surviving part of wall. Unconscious, the girl had said, but alive. Was he still...?

Harry picked his way cautiously over to the motionless figure.

"Harry?" Ron's voice came from outside, "Have you found him?"

Harry did not reply immediately, but dropped to one knee beside his son, dreading what he might find. Was he...? Yes, he was. His chest was rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths, and with a flood of relief, Harry looked back over his shoulder.

"He's here," he called quietly, "He's alive."

He heard Ron mutter something that sounded like 'Thank Merlin,' and one of the other Aurors called, "Need a hand?"

"No," Harry replied, "I can manage."

For another moment, he looked down at James with a mixture of emotions. He could not see much in the dim light, but the sight of his son's broken body made his heart constrict. James was so young, so strong and fit and full of life, it was completely wrong to see him like this. When he had been told that a Muggle village was under attack, the last thing Harry had expected was to be faced with was his own children, injured and in danger. What James and Lily had been doing here he had yet to find out, but that was something that could wait. James was still alive, which was the main thing, and they had to get him proper medical treatment as soon as possible.

Quickly, he made an examination of his son; James' pulse was still fairly strong, and his back and neck seemed uninjured, making it safer to move him. Harry let his Lumos spell die, leaving only the light filtering in from the wands of the other Aurors, and with another flick of his wand, levitated James' body. The boy stirred at this, and his eyes flickered open.

"What..." he muttered incoherently.

"All right, Jamie," his father said quietly, "We're getting you out of here."

"Dad?" James sounded as if he couldn't quite believe whose voice he was hearing.

"Yes, it's me," Harry confirmed, then added, as James seemed to be struggling to say something else, "Don't try and talk. We'll get you back to Hogwarts and you can talk later..."

"But the others..." James muttered.

"Are all fine," Harry finished the sentence firmly, which was not completely true, since Lily was hurt and he wasn't entirely sure about Louis and Adam, but it was true enough for James just now, "They're all back at school already."

"What about... Hazel...?" James went on with difficulty, even as his father moved him towards the gap in the debris.

"Hazel? Oh... the girl who was trapped in here with you?" Harry made the connection with the young woman he had encountered outside - he had not taken much notice of her in his anxiety about his son, and he had no idea who she actually was; whether she was a friend of James' or just a casual acquaintance, someone who had happened to be in the same place as him when the landslide came down. "She's in a better state than you, anyway," he answered James' question, "But we'll get her taken care of too, don't worry."

Ron met them at the entrance, and helped both of them out. The girl – Hazel, apparently – had gone, already taken back up to the castle by an Auror. Harry, somewhat pale after the fright he had been given, turned to his best friend.

"Will you be okay managing things here?" he asked, "I want to go back up to Hogwarts and sort things out there..."

Ron gave him an understanding nod.

"You go on. We'll finish cleaning up here; there's plenty of us. You make sure James and Lily are okay..."

Harry looked grim, his mind returning to the job at hand, now that he was recovering from his shock.

"There's more than that to see to at Hogwarts. I want to know what our two prisoners were trying to break into the school for. And then," he glanced over at his son, who was groaning as a Healing-trained Auror prodded expertly at his knee, "I want to know what this lot were doing here in the first place. And I expect their teachers'll want to know the same thing..."


	23. Secrets Revealed

**A/N: Okay, I know at least one person was confused by Hazel being taken to Hogwarts in the last chapter, so I thought I'd clear it up, in case anyone else was wondering the same thing, by pasting in the answer I gave to that review (see below). :)**

**"I know it's not a very canon thing to happen, but I thought quite hard about it, and I decided that it kind of had to be possible for non magical people to get into Hogwarts if they had to, if only for the sake of Muggle-borns' parents. In this case, all Muggles needing medical treatment were being taken to Hogwarts, where they have a well-equipped Hospital Wing, in order both to treat them and to get the situation under control. As for Hazel herself, although she's not badly hurt, they'd want to check her out, and treat her for shock if nothing else. And the way I see Memory Charms, they're complex pieces of magic – you have to know exactly what you're erasing, or you risk leaving the person mentally damaged. We saw the results of a badly done memory charm in Gilderoy Lockhart..."**

**I hope that makes everything clear! :)**

**Thank you so much to Asterix Tutnix, Bookworm290, ASunCame, Messy Ink, Gaia v, Aria, and ArwenJaneLilyLyra (though you won't see this chapter yet, as you're still catching up...) for the reviews since the last update! **

**PS – To my guest reviewer, Aria – don't worry, I certainly haven't forgotten about Albus and Sapphie! At some point soon I'll get back to other characters and storylines – there's just too much going on to get it all into one chapter, and I've been focussing on the main plot! I do plan on continuing all my subplots (including Al/Sapphie), although not every storyline will be fully resolved in this particular fic. Currently, you can assume that they're carrying on as any two people who go out and then break up would carry on, but I promise an update on them in the next chapter (it didn't make it into this one)!**

* * *

The Hospital Wing at Hogwarts was fuller than it had been for many years; since, in fact, the morning of the 3rd of May, 1998. Unlike that occasion, or any occasion in the history of the school, the majority of the patients today were Muggles. Most of them were under the impression that the school whose Hospital Wing had been utilised was an entirely 'normal' school; they had, after all, been escorted here by uniformed police officers. That did not explain, of course, everything that they had seen that night, and many locals were extremely puzzled by the fact that they had not known there was a boarding school nearby. But people's minds will think of anything before they begin to believe in something as impossible as magic, and anyone who got unduly upset or suspicious was being very carefully obliviated by Aurors, who attempted to obscure as little as possible of the more valuable memories. Proper memory charms would be performed once everyone had been questioned and statements had been taken; nobody was entirely happy about the extent of the memory modifications, but there was no other option.

On one bed, Lily Potter sat, pale and wrapped in a dressing gown, but otherwise none the worse for her ordeal. In the bed beside her, the curtains drawn back, was her oldest brother. James was sitting up, conscious now, as the spells and potions of Madam Booth did their work, but he still looked very white. Opposite them, on the other side of the room, but also with the bed curtains pulled back, was a girl to whom James' eyes kept being drawn, although all three were silent, nobody quite knowing what to say. A teacher from the Muggle school had been in briefly, to see the girl, and had then been ushered away. None of the Hogwarts students who were unhurt had been permitted into the Hospital Wing; it was too busy, and they would only be in the way.

"Dad's here somewhere," Lily broke the silence and addressed her brother.

"I know," he replied, his tone flat, "I think he was there when they pulled me out of that shed. I kind of remember seeing him..."

There was another pause, then Lily asked in a whisper, "Jamie... what _happened_?"

"Not a clue," James answered briefly, "You probably saw more than I did. All I saw was the landslide coming down on top of us..."

Her eyes went to his face, tears in them suddenly.

"I thought you were dead, Jamie," he told him, her voice wobbling.

He looked at her properly for the first time, and gave her a small smile.

"Well, I'm not, so no need to cry over me," he answered, his tone kinder than his words, and his gaze once more strayed over to the girl in the bed opposite, who was trying to look as if she wasn't hearing their conversation.

"That's thanks to you," he added, raising his voice very slightly to make it clear that he was no longer addressing his sister right beside him, "I'm pretty sure you saved my life back there..."

Letting the pretence go, Hazel looked across at the two of them. She had not been entirely sure who the red-haired girl was, but from her use of the word 'dad', Hazel assumed James' sister, making her Lily, unless he had more than one.

She herself was experiencing a turmoil of emotions. She had been informed that nobody had died that night, and that there had been no major casualties among her non-magical friends. She could only assume that Scorpius too was okay, given that he was not here among the injured. She didn't even know whether he had turned up to the party; she had been in the process of calling him from outside the hall when James himself had interrupted her, just before the landslide, and she had never got through to him.

And now she was in Hogwarts, a place she had always longed to visit, but never in a million years thought she would. These were not exactly the circumstances she would have chosen, but still – she was _here_. Scorpius had told her that she would not even be able to see the building let alone get inside it, but she had overheard part of a conversation between two of the official-looking people coming and going, who had talked of emergency measures, and the Ministry 'not being happy about all these Muggles in the school.' It would have meant nothing to any other Muggle, but Hazel was able to put some of the pieces together. People had been in to ask her questions, but she had not had much to tell them. She had avoided any mention of Scorpius, or her knowledge of the magical world, and simply recounted that she had been out the back 'texting a friend' when she had heard shouts and screams, and then a shout louder than the rest – 'in some sort of foreign language,' she had suggested – followed by the realisation that the hill was coming down on top of them. James had been nearby, and yes, she had been speaking to him previously, but no, she wouldn't say she knew him. James himself had listened silently to her story from the other side of the room, and then carefully corroborated it, when they had turned to him. He obviously knew the people interviewing him, as he addressed them by name. Neither of them mentioned the dance, or the argument afterwards. She was grateful to him for that, at least.

There was nothing very obviously unusual about the room she was currently in – it was a bit old-fashioned in style, but that was all. She'd been told that the drink she'd been given was 'just something warm, to help with the shock', and she had no idea whether that was true, or whether it was something stranger. Other than that, there was nothing very wrong with her, now that she'd warmed up. The recovery of the boy opposite her, on the other hand, would have seemed astonishingly rapid if she had not known that magic was at work. She knew perfectly well that his leg was badly broken, and yet there had been no suggestion of taking him to a hospital for an x-ray, or to get it put in a cast. She had not seen what they'd done to him, but clearly broken bones were not such a big deal in the Magical world. He also seemed to be regaining energy very fast, considering that he'd lost a lot of blood, and she thought he'd been on the verge of hypothermia. But it was magic, so she couldn't be surprised.

Exciting though it was to be here, though, it was also bewildering. She still felt shaky, despite the quick work of the draught she'd been given, and she wished that there was someone she knew here. Miss Addison had been in, but she had not been allowed to stay, because at that stage, there had still been casualties coming in, and everyone had been very busy. Hazel felt very much alone in a very strange world, and Scorpius would have been a welcome sight right now.

She opened her mouth to say something in reply to James' words, although in all honesty she wasn't sure what she would say. She didn't know whether she had actually saved his life or not, but either way, she felt awkward about it, and wished that she was not stuck here with James Potter and his sister, especially if he was going to try and thank her for saving his life, when all she had done was what any decent person would have done. However, she never got a chance to say anything, for at that moment, two of the people who had asked her questions earlier re-entered the room, ushered in by the woman who had been treating Hazel, who wore what could be best described as an old-fashioned nurse's outfit. With them was an ordinary police officer, or at least someone in a police officer's uniform, which seemed to Hazel bizarrely out of place here.

"Apologies for this," the woman who seemed to be in charge said briskly, "Just a few more things to ask you, Miss.. ah..." she consulted the notes in her hand, "Miss Kitson. I think we'll have some privacy, if that's okay?" She glanced at the woman in the nurse's uniform, who nodded.

"Of course."

Nobody bothered to ask Hazel if she was all right with this – she supposed that when you'd just witnessed a presumably serious crime, you just had to go with things. In fact, she felt somewhat alarmed as the curtains were pulled around her bed, blocking out the nurse, as well as James, his sister, and everyone else in the room. She had already told them all she knew – at least, all she was prepared to tell them. What more could they want to ask her?

"Now," the woman sounded kind but firm, "I understand that tonight's been something of an ordeal for you – for everyone involved. You've already given us an account of what happened, from your own point of view – have you anything to add to that just now?" she paused, to give Hazel a chance to speak, but the girl simply shook her head, beginning to get a sense of foreboding, "Right. Well, if not, then I think that's your part of this over. We have one more thing to do, just a simple matter of procedure, you understand..." she smiled at Hazel, and glanced at the two people with her, who were both – even the police officer – reaching into inside pockets, and suddenly Hazel knew exactly what was going to happen.

"No!" she said, loudly and as firmly as she good. The woman fixed her with a concerned look.

"Is something the matter, Miss Kitson? I promise you, this is merely official procedure, there's no need for alarm..."

"No," Hazel reiterated, "I know what you're going to do – you're going to modify my memory, and you can't. I won't..." She trailed off, because realistically, if they pulled their wands on her right now, there would be absolutely nothing she could do, and that thought filled her with fear and rage. However, they were simply staring at her in shock, and she realised, in the midst of it all, that she had just given everything away.

"What exactly do you know about modifying memories?" the woman asked sharply, and Hazel glared at her. No, they could not, they must not, get away with this. She was a human being, with rights. And she wasn't going to let them treat her like a child caught out in something she shouldn't be involved in.

"I know plenty," she informed the woman, "I know it's what your Ministry do to people like me – non-magical people who've seen something they shouldn't, but it's not right – you can't just mess around in someone's brain without asking them!"

The three adults were looking at her with very serious expressions.

"Who has been telling you this information, Miss Kitson?" it was still the woman who spoke, and her voice was still kind, but with a concerned undertone, "Do you have a relative who...?"

"I don't see why that matters," Hazel broke in – untruthfully, since she realised exactly why it mattered to them, but she had no intention of giving them the information. For one thing, it could get Scorpius into a lot of trouble. For another, as long as they were unsure of what she knew and what she did not know, she thought, they were unlikely to modify her memory. She was being borderline rude, she knew that, but she had ceased to care. The idea of memory modification filled her with horror.

It seemed that she was right in her assumption, because they were looking at her in consternation, but none of them had actually drawn a wand. The woman turned and muttered something to the man in plain clothes, and Hazel thought she heard the words 'fetch' and 'back-up here'. He nodded, turned and disappeared, leaving the curtain open where he had gone. Hazel could see him as he walked to the door, not far from her bed, and left through it

"Well, it is relevant to us," the woman began to explain, once he had gone, "Because we go to some trouble to stay out of sight, so if there's been a leak..."

"There hasn't been a leak," Hazel made a big effort and kept her voice calm and reasonable, "It's only me, and I haven't told anyone else in ten years – I'm not going to start now. All I'm saying is that you've got no right to take my memories away from me..."

She was interrupted by the sound of a small scuffle at the door, and turned her head to look in that direction.

"Very well," the nurse – or whatever she was – was saying, in slightly amused tones, as she spoke to a person or people at the door, "If you're quiet, you can come in and see Lily for a few minutes – but don't go telling the whole school I let you in..."

"Thanks, Madam Booth!" a small and unfamiliar voice said happily, and two figures advanced into the room. The first - small, plump and blonde – went straight past Hazel's bed without looking at her, and from the other side of the curtain, Hazel heard her voice saying, "Hey Lily, hey James! Are you okay now? Everyone in school's talking about it – did you really nearly get killed, Jamie...?"

Hazel, however, had fixed her eyes on the second figure, whom she recognised immediately. For a moment, she froze, and then attempted to slump down and out of sight on the bed, but it was no use. Quite apart from the fact that the woman she was speaking to was asking her in surprise what was wrong, Iseult Malfoy had happened to glance in the right direction, and had seen her.

"_Hazel?_" the small girl stopped as if rooted to the spot, and stared in shock, "Wha... what are you doing here?"

There was a moment of dead silence in the Hospital Wing. The blonde girl's voice ceased, and the two remaining adults looked from Hazel to Iseult and back again.

"Hey, Issie," Hazel said at last, weakly, for want of anything else to say.

"I _knew_ it!" The voice came from out of sight, the other side of the curtains, and triumph had given it more strength than the same voice had had a few moments ago. Hazel closed her eyes and almost groaned. She had forgotten about James and his guesswork – and if she'd thought about it, she might have hoped that he had also forgotten about it, with the state he'd been in, but apparently not.

"And... you are?" the woman questioned eventually, looking at Issie. For a moment, Issie stared at her, her brain appearing to work frantically.

"Iseult Malfoy," she said simply at last, and Hazel watched something change in the faces of the two adults beside her, as if a lot of possibilities had suddenly occurred to them, none of which were entirely to their liking.

"You know each other?" the woman in the uniform of a police officer spoke for the first time.

There was another pause, while Issie bit her lip, obviously realising that she had given the game away.

"We live in the same town," Hazel said wearily, at last. That much, they would surely be able to work out. Someone was bound to have told them where the English students had come from, and they'd presumably be able to work out where the Malfoy family lived, if they didn't already know.

"I see," it was the first woman speaking again, "And... Iseult... can I ask what exactly you've told your friend here about magic...?"

Hazel felt her heart sink. Of course, they were bound to assume now that Issie had been the one to reveal secrets – how on earth could they get out of this one?

"Nothing!" Issie replied earnestly and truthfully.

"Now..." the woman began, in tones that suggested she wanted the truth this time. However, she was interrupted once more.

"She's telling the truth," yet another voice spoke from the doorway, and Hazel didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed as she looked round to find herself looking at her best friend. Scorpius met her eyes briefly, and she could tell that despite his outward nonchalance, he was worried and nervous.

"Scorp..." Issie began, still gnawing on her bottom lip, but her brother ignored her. He also ignored the presence of James and Lily Potter; Hazel could not see them to notice their reactions to him, but from his position at the door, Scorpius must be able to see everyone in the room. After his glance at Hazel, though, he looked straight at the woman asking all the questions.

"It wasn't her who told Hazel anything. It was me."

"Scorpius Malfoy, isn't it?" the woman spoke steadily, although she was obviously taken aback by these events, "I hope you realise, Mr Malfoy, that you're confessing to a serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy..."

"He was six!" Hazel burst in.

"What on _earth_ is going on?"

Scorpius jumped and swung round, and Hazel saw appearing behind him another woman and two men. It was the woman who had spoken, and for a moment, Hazel thought that this must be the back-up that had been sent for, until Scorpius said nervously, "Um... Hello, Professor..."

"I have no idea what you're doing here, Malfoy," the woman said sternly, striding past Scorpius, who moved aside hurriedly, "But as I told the whole school to stay away from the Hospital Wing..." Her eyes moved across the room and fell upon the guilty faces of the two younger girls. "Well, I see you are not the only one to have ignored my instructions..."

She sent a meaningful look towards the younger of the two men who had entered the room with her, and he coughed.

"Yes... Er, Alice, Issie, I don't think you're meant to be in here, so I'd suggest you go back to the Common Room. You ought to be in bed, anyway..."

"Sorry, Dad," the small blonde girl said meekly, moving towards the door. Issie stayed where she was, looking uncertainly between her brother, Hazel, and the two people standing by the bed.

"Actually, Neville, I'm sorry, but we're going to need to talk to Iseult... And Scorpius..." the woman from the Ministry interrupted apologetically.

"Issie doesn't know anything," Scorpius broke in again, "You can leave her out of it..."

The woman gave him a cool glance.

"I think we'll judge that for ourselves, thank you, Mr Malfoy. However, given the time," she looked at the three professors, "I suppose we can possibly leave that for tomorrow. Is there somewhere a bit more private where we can speak to these two, though, if Miss Kitson is well enough to get up?" She indicated Scorpius and Hazel.

"You can use my office," The woman in the nurse's uniform had been listening silently, and now spoke up. There seemed to be general agreement to this. Hazel half thought of refusing to move, but that would be childish and undignified – she was determined, though, that she would not submit to having her memory wiped. They seemed like civilised people – they could not force her knowingly to go through with that, could they? And if they did, which memories would they take, she wondered with a sick fear. If she had kept her mouth shut, they would only have taken away her memory of tonight, but now they knew, would they take away everything? Would they take away her memories of Scorpius, and all her dreaming about Hogwarts? That was half her childhood, though. That was her best friend...

However, she reluctantly got out of bed, silently took the dressing gown she was offered, slipping it over the long hospital-style gown they had given her earlier, and, with Scorpius, followed the two Ministry Officials through the Hospital Wing and into a small room at the back.

The rest of the people in the room watched them go, with varying degrees of confusion. Alice opened her mouth to ask a question, then glanced over at the three teachers and shut it again. Issie was biting her lip and looking horribly worried, and she wasn't alone; the three professors were also looking concerned. However, it was Ministry business, and they could not interfere much. If the Aurors said they needed to speak to students, that was that. Besides, they had come to the Hospital Wing for a different reason, and that was to see the two Potters, who were still watching proceedings from the other side of the room. Lily's face was a picture of blank astonishment, while James' was carefully expressionless.

The arrival of the professors had diverted James from wondering how Scorpius Malfoy had managed to acquire a Muggle friend, and onto more urgent matters, namely the fact that Professor Clearwater had made it all too clear what would happen to him if he was caught breaking any more rules, and sneaking out of school to attend Muggle parties definitely came under that heading. It seemed that Fenella might get to say 'I told you so' after all...

"Common Room and bed," Neville reminded Alice and Issie, and Alice shuffled sheepishly towards the door.

"We only came to see Lily and James..." she told her father. James assumed she meant Lily, and was simply too kind to say so, seeing as he didn't think Iseult Malfoy liked him any more than her brother did.

"And you've seen them," Neville replied, "Now, out." He glanced at Iseult's anxious face. "Try not to worry," he said, more kindly, "Auror Jefferson's a very nice lady, and if you haven't done anything wrong, you won't be in any trouble. If they still want to talk to you tomorrow, we'll come and get you – and I'll come with you if you want."

Issie nodded silently, not looking much reassured, but there was nothing more she could do, and with one last look at the closed door through which her brother and Hazel had disappeared, she followed Alice out of the Hospital Wing. Madam Booth had disappeared to see to some of her other patients, leaving only James, Lily, and the three teachers. James was not particularly surprised to see either Professor Clearwater, or Neville, who was his Head of House. Professor Morrison was more of a surprise, and his presence seemed an ominous sign, even though he had yet to say anything. The last time James had seen him was after the Quidditch match. His mouth slightly dry, he looked at Neville, trying to read what was going to happen in the face of the man whom, out of school, he called uncle. Professor Clearwater spoke.

"Well, we've already heard the stories from your friends," she remarked sternly, "Is there anything either of you would like to tell us about exactly what you were doing in Kilmary tonight?"

Lily glanced at her brother, but when it became apparent that he was not going to say anything, she replied, "We... we went to the party. I'm sorry, Professor," she added in a small voice.

Professor Morrison cleared his throat, and spoke for the first time.

"As we agreed, Professor Clearwater..." he said quietly to his colleague.

"Quite," Professor Clearwater did not sound altogether approving of whatever they had agreed, but at the end of the day, Professor Morrison was the Headmaster, and she went on, "Of course, you were in serious breach of school rules, but... well, apparently if you _hadn't_ all been there, things could have been a lot worse. It was, it seems, partly thanks to Weasley and Cooper that nobody was seriously hurt inside the hall, and Miss Potter, I hear that you managed to incapacitate one of the culprits..." James sent a startled glance at his sister, but had no time at the moment to spare for asking her how she had managed that, for Professor Clearwater had not stopped, "And as you in particular, Mr Potter, seem to have successfully managed to punish yourself, we feel that no further action is needed, except that you will each lose fifteen points from your houses. And I hope I don't need to tell you that we do _not_ want to see any repeat of this – we won't be so lenient another time..."

Hardly daring to hope that he had understood correctly, James glanced at Neville, who gave him a nod, and the smallest of winks. He didn't know who he had to thank for this – whether it was Professor Clearwater herself, or whether Neville (or even his father) had spoken up for him, or whether Professor Morrison had intervened again - but his relief was palpable in his voice as he said, "So you're not... expelling me?"

"No," Professor Clearwater said acidly, "Once again, Potter, you've escaped by the skin of your teeth. I would say that I hope it will finally teach you your lesson, but I think I've given up on that. All I can say is that you've got all of three months left of your school career – please try not to cause any more trouble before then..."

More points lost, James realised, even as he meekly assented to her words, put the House Cup far out of Gryffindor's reach this year. To be sure, Slytherin was losing some too, but there had been three Slytherins in Kilmary, and five Gryffindors, and they were already trailing behind. He probably ought to feel guilty about that, and he did slightly, but it did not seem so serious when compared to expulsion. Lily was looking rather cast down, he noticed, but then she didn't lose points very often – not more than the odd five here or there for forgetting her homework.

Professor Clearwater, having said her piece, had glanced around the Hospital Wing, asked Madam Booth in a low voice to let her know when the Aurors had finished in there, and headed back towards the door, leaving her two colleagues to follow her or not as they chose. For a few moments, they both stayed where they were.

"Well," it was Professor Morrison who spoke first, looking around the room, "This is all very disturbing... We've had rather an eventful year, one way or another..." he peered at the two students, "And it seems that you two have managed to be involved in quite a lot of it. But then, perhaps that's not surprising. I only hope they get all this sorted out, and that next year is nice and peaceful again..."

It occurred to James that most of the professors would not call any year at Hogwarts 'peaceful', even without events like this, but then Professor Morrison normally stayed in his office and let the chaos roll by beneath him, or so it seemed to the student body.

"How are you both feeling, anyway?" Neville asked them.

"We're fine," James said before Lily could speak, "But nobody's even told us what happened..."

"To be honest, Jamie, we don't know any more than you at the moment," Neville said grimly, "I'm sure we'll hear when the Auror team isn't so busy. Talking of which, your dad'll be up to see you shortly, so you can ask him, if you like. He was heading this way, but he got caught up with things downstairs. And there was some talk of your mum coming up as well..."

"Why?" James didn't look altogether pleased at this news, and repeated, "We're fine..."

"You almost died, James," Neville said wryly, "I expect she wants to make sure you're both back in one piece. And now that I've done that myself, I'm going to report to your friends and relatives – they were very keen to see you both, though Alice and Iseult seem to be the only ones who actually managed to get as far as sneaking in here. I'll pop in and see you again in the morning."

Both professors began to move away, and James spoke suddenly, not sure what made him do it, apart from another sudden flood of gratitude that – again – he wasn't expelled.

"Professor Morrison," he said, and the elderly man turned back towards him, "I... well, I, y'know, I never said thanks," he went on, somewhat awkwardly, "For last time, when you decided not to kick me out..."

Neville looked surprised, and Professor Morrison vaguely amused, although what about, James was not sure.

"Don't thank me," the headmaster said, and James didn't think he'd ever seen him smile properly before, "Thank your sister there. I was merely paying off what was owed."

And with this cryptic remark, he followed Professor Clearwater.

James stared after him in astonishment for a moment, before turning to look blankly at Lily.

"What the hell...?"

"I don't know," she looked as nonplussed as he was, "I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't have anything to do with it..."

They both looked at Neville, but he also appeared confused.

"Is... is he losing it a bit?" James ventured cautiously.

"Now, James," Neville attempted to sound stern, although in fact he seemed a little doubtful himself, "As far as I'm aware there's nothing wrong with Professor Morrison's mind. And that's no way to talk about your headmaster. Now, it's getting late, and I'd suggest that you both try and get some sleep..."

And with that, he left them to it.

* * *

There was only a skeleton staff in the Auror Office that night. There were only ever a few on duty overnight (with others on call should there be an emergency), but with the crisis up in Scotland, only two were present when the dark-haired woman arrived and requested admission. One was Derek Andrews, in his late twenties and a relatively new Auror; the other was Dennis Creevey, who had joined the department straight from school and was now a Senior Auror. They had both met the woman previously, and although surprised to see her at the office, especially at this time, they cautiously allowed her in when she said that she had information regarding the latest incidents.

"Mrs Malfoy," Dennis greeted her. Astoria Greengrass (as she had been then) had been the year above him in school, but he had never known her, except as one of the Pureblood Slytherins, most of whom had looked down their noses at Muggleborns like him.

"I'm sorry to bother you," her tone was stiff and formal, but both men thought that she seemed unwell; there were signs of severe mental and physical strain in her face and voice. Derek Andrews began to offer her a chair, but she took no notice of him.

"I'm here to tell you," she went on, staring straight ahead and not meeting either of their eyes, "That it was I who cast the Imperius Curse on the Muggle child in September..."

* * *

**A/N: Once again, if you missed it last time, Professor Morrison's 'debt' to Lily is something that is explained in my other story Choices, but I will explain it by PM to anyone who is desperately curious and really can't be bothered to read all forty Chapters. **


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